"You," he said approvingly, "become more of an a.s.set each day, my jewel. In your short time here you have become friends with the sultan's mother, his favorite of favorites, and now the matriarch of one of Europe's wealthiest banking families. If I but knew the name of the good genie who blessed me so I should thank him."

"Oh, I am so glad to have made you, happy," she said, "for you make me happy! In the spring when the gardens are at their peak we shall invite the sultan-that would be permissible, wouldn't it?-Nur-U-Banu, Safiye, Janfeda, and Fahrusha Sultan, and whoever else you think, to partake in a festival of flowers."

Her enthusiasm was a delight to him for it bespoke a zest for living. Taking her onto his lap he sat amid the fat pillows with her. "It would be very permissible to ask the sultan and his ladies to our home, and you are very clever to think of it. How did you learn of Janfeda and Fahrusha Sultan?" His hand slipped beneath her silken blouse to fondle her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Esther Kira told me," she said snuggling against him with a sigh. "Listening to her is like living the history of this dynasty, my lord Javid."

"And she has indeed lived it herself, my jewel, and appears to show no signs of departing this life. I would not be surprised despite her great age to see her live on into the next reign." He shifted her so that she lay back against his arm, and dipping his head fastened his mouth upon one of her nipples, encircling the quickly rigid tip with his hot tongue so that she murmured with pleasure, her hand kneading strongly at the back of his neck. He played with both her glorious b.r.e.a.s.t.s for some minutes, squeezing them firmly, caressing them with gentle touches, licking and blowing on the nipples. Beneath him she wiggled with abandon out of her dark purple silk pantaloons, and discovering it he gave a growl of laughter. "Shameless houri," he murmured, kissing her pa.s.sionately, but she pulled away from him, and with eager hands began to disrobe him to his delight.

"I adore you without your clothes," she teased him audaciously, and he chuckled.

"You are bold as well as shameless," he teased her back. She was so unlike any woman he had ever known. She did not hide her emotions from him, but was open. It was a sort of honesty he had not expected to find in a woman, but he liked it. Once her initial shyness had worn off he discovered that she was daring enough to sometimes take the lead in their lovemaking, and he found that incredibly exciting for Javid Khan was used to pa.s.sivity in his women.

"Tonight," he said as she yanked his pantaloons off his long frame, "I shall teach you how the women of my land sometimes love their lords."

"How?" She sat back on her haunches looking curiously at him.

No one, he thought looking at her, no one has the right to look so delectable. Letting his eyes slide slowly down her lush form he enjoyed the knowledge that she was his, and his alone. If the sultan had but guessed at the incredible beauty of her body he should not have given her away. If Murad had but suspected her delightful pa.s.sionate nature, a nature that was only just beginning to reveal itself to Javid Khan, Marjallah would not be his. But she was!

His blue eyes caught her silvery-gray ones in thrall. "You know the special way in which I love you, my jewel? The way that sets your lovely body afire for me?" She nodded. "I want you to love me in that way," he said.

"I have never done that," she said slowly, and she looked down at his manhood which lay quietly against his body.

Javid Khan drew his wife against him, and kissed her mouth with a slow and sensuous kiss, his tongue sliding through her lips to dart daringly about her mouth. Then releasing her he gently pushed her head down to his manhood. "I will not force you," he said, "but I want you to try. Take me in your mouth, Marjallah, and love me as I love you."

Aidan shivered. She had never considered doing what it was that he now importuned her to do, and yet she had also never imagined that a man could love a woman in that way. It gave her great pleasure when he did. Was it possible that she could give him the same pleasure? If it was, then she wanted to do so. Reaching out with her tongue she touched but the tip of it to his shaft; then growing bolder ran it about the ruby head, a second shiver, this one of excitement when he groaned, "Ahh, my love!" Emboldened now she opened her mouth and took him between her lips, sucking upon him as upon a delicious morsel.

His voice tight he instructed her, and she carefully followed his bidding, quickly realizing from the fact he grew bigger and harder with every growing minute, and from the pleasured moans that escaped his lips, that he was indeed gaining a great deal of pleasure from her. Finally he cried out, "Cease my jewel! Now, before I spill my seed in a useless place," and she obeyed him, expecting him to order her upon her back, but to her surprise he said, "Now, my adorable wife, I want you to mount yourself upon me as you would upon the horses you tell me that you can ride." Surprised she stared at him, and he laughed as he lifted her up, and placed her upon his body. "Impale yourself, my jewel, upon my shaft. I want you to ride me!"

Aidan caught her lower lip between her teeth as for just a moment she considered what he was asking, but then a small smile turned up the corners of her mouth, and she gracefully mounted him, her breath catching sharply as his hardness filled her sheath. "Ohhh," she said in a soft surprised voice.

Javid Khan laughed, and reaching up began to handle her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with firm, but insistent touches. "Now, my fair huntress, ride me. Ride me hard!"

He was throbbing inside her! She could actually feel him pulsing, and it excited her terribly. She considered, perhaps just the tiniest bit shocked, that it was she who in this amorous bout of theirs had the upper hand. She controlled him this time! It was he who would writhe between her thighs this night! It was an incredible thought. The most thrilling she had ever experienced. An almost primitive look came into her silvery-gray eyes, and as she looked down upon him they narrowed. Leaning down over him she began a sensual movement with her hips, and his own hips pushed up to meet her thrusts.

She caught his head between her hands, and pressed her lips to his, pushing her tongue into his mouth to swirl around teasingly for just a minute. Then her tongue found his ear, and with the feathery movement of just the tip she licked that sh.e.l.l of flesh. Next her tongue licked the side of his face, and his neck while with her firm thighs gripping him she continued to plunge her lower body up and down upon his rigid manhood.

He watched her through half-closed eyes, very much enjoying her performance, and rather delighted by the way she had so easily taken him over, obviously liking this switch in their roles. He had had other women ride him before, but none of them had ever actually savored the encounter as Marjallah was doing. Now, however, he felt the need to reestablish his position as her husband and her master. He forced his upper body into a half-seated position effectively pushing her into a full seated pose. His arm wrapped itself tightly about her narrow waist while his other hand reached out, and grasping her breast in a firm grip he took the nipple into his mouth, sucking hard upon it as their bodies moved rhythmically.

The effect upon Aidan was incredible. Her body stiffened briefly, and then suddenly she began to moan wildly, her head starting to thrash. He was so big and hard within her. His mouth was so hot and insistent upon her sensitive nipple. She felt her body beginning to soar, but as it did she also felt a burst of fiery sweetness enveloping both her body and her brain. His thrusts came faster and faster, and suddenly she was falling backward, still impaled upon his mighty manhood as he now towered over her, pounding into her willing and eager body.

"Ahh, houri! Ahh! I can't stop with you! I don't want to stop with you! Ahhhhh, Marjallaaaah!" and he shuddered his release.

Beneath him Aidan didn't know if she was even still alive. Her heart was pounding violently, her entire body was drenched in wetness, and her mind had become a vast blur. All she knew was that the words he spoke to her were precisely how she herself felt. She couldn't stop the frantic movement of her hips. She didn't want to stop! She wanted him to go and on and on forever loving her, but when she felt his love juices flooding her secret garden it was suddenly perfect, and she wrapped her arms about him to cradle him against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as he fell forward, exhausted with their pa.s.sion.

Aidan suddenly began to weep. It had all been too much for her. Javid Khan reversed their position so it was he who was holding her against his chest. He felt the wet heat of her tears, but he said nothing. The sounds she made were of deep sorrow, and what could he possibly say to alleviate that sorrow? All his wife needed to know was that he loved her which he hoped his act of comfort indicated. Women were such wonderfully emotional creatures. Perhaps she might even be breeding. Whatever it was that had distressed her he knew from his experience with her s.e.x would pa.s.s. As her sobs turned to sniffles he said quietly, "You know that I love you."

She raised her head to look up at him, and her sandy lashes were gathered in damp, spiky clumps. "I know," she whispered. "It's just that it was so wonderful!"

"Yes," he agreed with her. "It was wonderful! Ah, houri, may you and I always be able to make it that wonderful!" Then he stroked her coppery hair with a gentle hand.

During the remainder of the autumn Aidan worked with her Portuguese gardeners at preparing and planting the large garden of the palace. It was very irregular, Jinji told her somewhat disapprovingly, that a princess such as herself should stoop to even a.s.sociating with such barbaric infidels. They were uncirc.u.mcised, and worse, they had not even been deprived of their functional abilities. It was scandalous that the prince had whole men working in his gardens while his precious wife and her women were about.

"But they are old men," Aidan protested. "They are toothless, old men, all of them! Most of them were impressed into their country's service, convinced that they were fighting a great holy crusade that would a.s.sure them a place in heaven, Jinji. It is a tragedy that these poor old men cannot spend their remaining days in their own villages with their wives, and their grandchildren. My lord Javid chose them for their ability to work the land, and from the kindness of his heart."

Jinji sniffed. He still did not approve either his mistress or his master's actions, but what could he do? He was but a slave himself. He had had such high hopes when he had been a.s.signed to be the lady Marjallah's eunuch in Algiers. He had known from the beginning that they were coming to the sultan's seraglio, and had she remained there, he thought, what a miracle could he not have worked! She might have been a favorite, even a kadin! Still when she was presented to the prince his hopes had soared once more. She would become the prince's favorite, and he, Jinji, would rebuild Javid Khan's harem. In a smaller way he would be like the mighty agha kislar, Ilban Bey. Now even that, too, appeared unlikely.

Prince Javid Khan was in love with his princess Marjallah. He wanted no other woman. He would not even consider allowing Jinji to purchase a few beauties for him. The prince's palace had become like the house of a wealthy merchant. One wife, and boring little daily duties consumed their lives. There was no excitement. The prince and his wife were totally wrapped up in each other. Each day the prince went to the city. Marjallah, in good weather to her garden; on an inclement day she oversaw the running of the house which beneath her competent hand needed little care. They ate their evening meal together, and spent their evenings making love, playing chess, simply talking. If only Marjallah would conceive a child, the eunuch thought, then he might have an opportunity to enlarge the population of the harem.

The winter pa.s.sed uneventfully, and spring slipped slowly into the gardens of the prince's little palace. Each day Aidan, in the company of Marta and her two daughters, walked lingeringly along the carefully raked marble chip paths inspecting each bed for the progress of the tiny green shoots which every day grew taller and bigger. As Aidan had had each plot of ground planted in a pattern, she now checked on each area to make certain that the patterns would be totally perfect. Outside the garden shed in a sunny s.p.a.ce sat rows of pots, their green shoots awaiting the failure of any of their brothers in the patterns, that they might replace them.

During the winter Aidan had broken the routine of her days to frequently go into the city to visit with the sultan valideh and Safiye. She had learned from them during the course of her many conversations that Turks prized their gardens, even going as far as to write poetry to them. Each sultan was, by custom, taught a trade, and the conqueror of Istanbul had been a gardener as was Sultan Murad. It was very important to Aidan, therefore, that her gardens be as perfect as possible when the sultan came to see them. There must be symmetry, purity of design, and glorious color, all to please the eye of the beholder. It was to this end she worked, filling her days, blotting out her memories of her beloved Conn, and of her home in England.

Sometimes it was easy, especially when Javid Khan made such exquisite love to her. She had come to realize that what her body experienced in pleasure had nothing to do with the way her heart felt. She loved Conn. He was the only man she would ever love; but her fate was obviously with Javid Khan, who was a good and kind man. It was true that his look did not make her heart leap as had Conn's, but he loved her, and if only a child would come, she convinced herself, all would be well.

Toward the end of April Aidan could see that her gardens would, in two days' time, be at their peak. She consulted Miguel, the eldest of her gardeners, for he was an absolute marvel at knowing the weather. He stood before her, eyes lowered, for it was not right that he gaze directly upon the prince's wife. She was a great lady.

"What do your bones tell you, Miguel?" Aidan asked him. "I want to invite the sultan to come and enjoy the gardens in two days' time. Will the skies be fair? Will it be warm?"

"Answer carefully, infidel dog!" snarled Jinji. "If you are wrong I will personally flay the gristle from your miserable bones."

Miguel shot the eunuch a black look. He and his companions disliked Jinji, who was always bullying them when Aidan was not looking. "The weather, my lady princess, will be fair and quite warm for the next four days at least. You may have the sultan without any fear of rain."

"Thank you, Miguel," Aidan replied. "There will be wine for you all tonight. Just a little though for I would not offend my lord Javid."

The gardener nodded, and gave her a shy smile. He and his fellows all wished that they were safely home in Portugal, but it could have been a lot worse than it was. "Thank you, my lady princess. You are kind to us, and we bless you for it."

Aidan sent Jinji with a note to the sultan valideh inviting the sultan's mother, her son, Safiye, Fahrusha Sultan, Janfeda, and whatever ladies of the sultan's court she felt should come. It was politely and formally worded, and came as no surprise to Nur-U-Banu who had been expecting it. Aidan would not presume to direct her invitation to the sultan himself. It would have been considered an appalling breach of good manners.

On the morning of the visit Aidan arose early, and pulling a silken robe about herself hurried out to check on both the weather and the gardens. The morning was cloudless and quite warm. As she moved along the pathways Aidan was delighted to see that virtually every blossom was in bloom. She couldn't believe it, and she thought to herself that she must bring Esther Kira to see how her bulbs had fared. She would do it tomorrow before the weather changed, and before the flowers were past their peak.

Javid Khan was stirring when she reentered her chamber for he had spent the entire night with her. Pulling her down into the bed he slipped his hand between the halves of her silken garment, opening it, and buried his face between her fragrant b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She felt his warm tongue moving up the valley between the hills, and she laughed softly scolding him, "My lord! Fie! The sultan will be here, and we shall not be ready."

"I am already ready," he chuckled, and turning her onto her back he was quickly atop her. His hand was between her thighs teasing at her little pearl, and finding her responsive to his pa.s.sion he said softly, breathing warmly into her ear, "Ahh, my jewel, you, too, are ready for love," and then he entered her in a smooth motion.

Aidan's laughter was low as she received him. He was a very skilled and persuasive lover, and he had never failed to bring her to that crisis that gives such extra pleasure to a husband and a wife. "You are a wicked man," she teased him, but he was not in the least fooled.

"You have a glow after I have loved you," he said. "I want the sultan to see that glow, and envy me! I want him to see how happy we both are!"

His words were so thrilling, she thought. He was an extremely different man from what she would have expected of a Tartar prince. Perhaps it was the influence of his French mother, but whatever it was it made him a kind and gentle man to live with. Reaching up she drew his head down so that their lips just barely touched. "I glow," she whispered against his mouth, "because you make me happy, my husband!" and then she kissed him pa.s.sionately, her mouth fiercely pressing against his, her little teeth nibbling at his lips, her tongue running swiftly over his mouth.

Slowly, and with deliberately exaggerated motion he moved upon her body, pressing deeply into her tight sheath, withdrawing almost to the tip of his manhood before plunging back again. She had the power to arouse him as no woman in his memory had ever done, and this morning unable to satisfy his desire for her, he drew her legs over his shoulders so he might drive deeper into her.

Aidan cried out for she could never remember having been penetrated so deeply before. His large and lengthy shaft felt as if it were pushing into the very mouth of her womb itself. His ardor kindled within her an inferno of pa.s.sion so great that Aidan believed that she was dying. She couldn't breathe. Her eyes would not focus. Her blood thundered like boiling liquid through her veins. Strangely she felt no fear for whatever was happening to her also left her with a feeling of total acceptance. She never even heard her own voice as she cried out, and then she sank into a warm velvet darkness.

Although she was certain she lay unconscious for hours it was only a few minutes, and as she regained her senses she became aware of the fact that he was raining kisses upon her face. She had never felt more wonderful in her entire life, and she didn't want to let go of the feeling. She had always enjoyed lovemaking from the first time Conn had taken her virginity. She had always floated away on a cloud of delight, but never had she experienced what had just happened to her now.

"Marjallah!" His voice sounded slightly frantic. "Oh, my beloved jewel, awake! Tell me I have not hurt you!"

Slowly, reluctantly, she opened her eyes to view his handsome anxious face. "I am all right, my lord Javid," she said.

"You are magnificent!" was his response.

"It... it was never like that before," she said puzzled. "What happened to me?"

"It is called la pet.i.te morte, the little death," he answered her, and then he said, "I love you, my darling wife. I can never forget what happened to my family, but each day that goes by I realize how fortunate I am to have you; to have the chance to begin anew, my jewel."

"Oh, Javid," she said, and her silvery eyes were bright with tears of joy, "we are both lucky!" I am, she thought, beginning to really care for this man. I am beginning to love again. Not the way I loved my Conn, but nonetheless what I feel for Javid is love. Then suddenly Aidan's practical nature took over, and with a gasp she cried, "My lord husband! The sultan will be here shortly, and we have neither broken our fast nor bathed! Arise quickly!" and she leapt from their bed.

"We will bathe together," he said, but she sent him an arch look.

"We most certainly will not! Do you not remember what happens each time we bathe together?"

"Yes," he said with a smile, "I do."

"You will bathe in your own bath," she scolded him with the bossy prerogative of a wife. "Jinji! Jinji! Where are you, you useless lump of a half-man?"

The eunuch came running into the bedchamber. "What is it, my lady princess?"

"Escort my lord to his bath, Jinji, and oversee the bathmen that they hurry. We are late, and the sultan will be arriving much too soon!"

With a grimace of defeat Javid Khan arose from his wife's bed, and followed the eunuch from the room. Aidan then called to Marta and her daughters to come and aid her while she bathed and prepared for the royal visit. To Aidan's delight she found her favorite fragrance, lavender, available here in Turkey. Javid Khan liked the scent on her for it reminded him of the open steppes of his homeland, and was not the usual heavy fragrance worn by women. Marta's daughter Fern poured bath oil into the bathing pool, and instantly the room became like a garden. Marta busily scrubbed her mistress down, and rinsed her with clear, warm water before Aidan finally entered the bath to relax for just a few precious minutes before she must once more hurry to greet the sultan and her other guests.

When she came from the bath she was enfolded in a large towel that Marta had warmed, and she sat down to eat her first meal of the day. Iris presented her mistress with a tray containing a small bowl of fresh yogurt, another bowl of newly peeled and seeded green grapes that had come from Syria, a small loaf of freshly baked bread, a little pat of b.u.t.ter, and a comb of honey, and lastly a small pot of delicate green tea. Aidan's appet.i.te had never failed her, and she made short work of the food, rinsing her hands and face in a basin of warmed water afterward.

Her clothing had already been laid out, and when he saw his wife Javid Khan was immensely proud of her. Her wide harem trousers were of cloth of gold, the anklebands embroidered in black jets and small pearls. The transparent chemise that she wore was of a sheer silk fabric that had been shot through with metallic gold threads of such delicacy that they did not irritate her skin. Over these two garments she wore a long-sleeved, slash-skirted dress of black silk brocade that had been embroidered with a design of cloth-of-gold narcissis and tulips. About her hips was a gold belt encrusted with pearls, black jets, and golden beryls.

Since Aidan's hair was really her crowning glory she rarely wore it pulled back in a thick braid as did so many of the women of the sultan's harem. Instead she wore an embroidered gold ribbon sewn with golden beryls as a band above her forehead, and allowed her lovely hair to fall loosely. Having learned from his wife's women what she would be wearing, Javid Khan gifted Aidan with a necklace of creamy pearls and black jets strung upon very thin golden chains which had matching earbobs. Upon her arms she wore gold bangles, some plain, some wide and carved, some studded with bright stones which were echoed in the rings upon her slender fingers. Her slippers were of black velvet but had no heel lest Aidan stand higher than the sultan.

As Aidan had worn her black and gold, Javid Khan decided to complement her by wearing white and gold which suited his tawny good looks. His dress, however, was Persian with white trousers, and a simple white coat that closed with golden frogs. Upon his head he wore a cloth-of-gold turban from which a single white plume fluttered from the heart of a large ruby. Together they made an extremely handsome couple, a fact that was quite noticeable from the sultan's caique.

"Was it really necessary to give Javid Khan such a treasure?" grumbled Murad to his mother as their caiques drew abreast of one another upon reaching the prince's dockage.

"She is no beauty, my son," said Nur-U-Banu. "You have at least fifty girls in your harem right now who have ted hair not to mention Safiye. If Princess Marjallah looks lovely it is because she blooms with her husband's love."

"She might have bloomed with mine, mother."

"Do not be so greedy, elder brother," said Fahrusha Sultan, Murad's sister, who traveled with their mother in her caique. She was a lovely woman with her mother's fair hair and skin, and wonderfully expressive black eyes.

The sultan chuckled at his sibling's remark. "I am as greedy for women as you are for gems, my sister. Greed seems to be an inherited trait where we are concerned. Where did we get it from, I wonder?"

"Be silent!" said the valideh. "Here are our host and his bride to greet us."

The sultan's caique was the first of the little flotilla to b.u.mp the prince's quay, and it was immediately made fast. Only then did the sultan step out of his vessel onto the land. "Greetings, Javid Khan! It is a fine day you have conjured up for our visit."

The Tartar prince knelt respectfully until raised up by the Great Ottoman. "Welcome, my lord Murad. You do my house a great, and undeserved honor."

Murad smiled pleased at the flattery which had the ring of sincerity about it. Then he looked down to where the prince's wife knelt, her forehead pressed to his boot. Her glorious hair quite excited him. It was all well and good for his mother to say he had other women with red hair from which to choose in his harem, but none had hair the incredible coppery shade of Marjallah's, not even his wonderful Safiye. In his secret heart he l.u.s.ted after Marjallah, and seeing her now at his feet, so submissive and fair, quite aroused him. Reaching out he raised her up, and gazed into her eyes. "And you, my princess, do you welcome me also?"

"Of course, my lord sultan, with all my heart. I can only hope my poor preparations will not displease you," Aidan said sweetly, but she saw the desire that lurked deep in his dark eyes, and it quite frightened her. She was glad she was Javid Khan's wife, and not at the mercy of this man.

"I do not believe that you could ever displease me, Marjallah," he said with double meaning.

Fortunately Nur-U-Banu's caique followed by that of Safiye Kadin had now been made fast to their moorings, and Aidan could turn away from the sultan to dutifully greet his mother, his sister, his favorite wife, and Janfeda, who all expressed their delight at having been invited to the prince and princess' Festival of the Spring Flowers.

"You are radiant, my child," approved Nur-U-Banu. "I suspect that you have found great happiness with Prince Javid Khan."

"I have, dear madame," replied Aidan, "and I owe my joy to your great wisdom in seeing what others could not see." My G.o.d, thought Aidan, I am beginning to speak like them!

"Now," said the sultan valideh, "you need children to complete your happiness. We must pray that Allah will fill your womb soon."

"Indeed, children are a blessing and a comfort," replied Safiye. "I do not know what I would do without my dearest Memhet."

To Aidan's vast amus.e.m.e.nt both Janfeda and Fahrusha Sultan raised their eyes heavenward at this remark, but Nur-U-Banu chose to ignore it, instead drawing forth her pretty daughter, and then the lady Janfeda to meet Aidan for the first time. Aidan found the sultan's sister a charming woman, but it was Janfeda who fascinated her for this close friend of the sultan valideh was one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen.

The lady Janfeda was a tiny creature with a delicate bone structure. Her unlined skin was the color of white roses, her hair blue-black, and her eyes above which soared winglike dark brows were as black as the jets in Aidan's necklace. They were not, however, cold like stones, rather they were bright, and interested, and quite lively. She was at least Nur-U-Banu's age, and yet she resembled a girl in her appearance, and for some reason she reminded Aidan of Osman Bey.

"Dear child," she said in a voice as rich as heavy cream, a voice which was in distinct contrast to her dainty frame, "you are so kind to include me in this delightful party." Her eyes studied Aidan, and it was then that Aidan realized why the woman reminded her of Osman Bey. She could see beyond the ordinary!

"How could I not include the lady Janfeda, who is called one of the Pillars of the Empire?"

Janfeda laughed. "I like to think," she said, "that such a thing is a compliment."

"I am certain that it is," replied Aidan.

Janfeda reached out, and touched Aidan's ha'nd with a soft touch. "You are a sweet child," she said, "and I like you."

"Gracious," said Fahrusha Sultan, "you are greatly complimented, Princess Marjallah! My aunt Janfeda does not easily accept new people. She obviously sees in you things that the rest of us cannot."

"If she does, your highness, then I am grateful that whatever my lady Janfeda sees meets with her approval."

"Come," said the sultan who had been speaking with Javid Khan, "come, Princess Marjallah, and show me your gardens which even from this distance look lovely. As lovely as you, I will vow." He took her by the hand, and led her away.

Javid Khan then offered to escort the sultan valideh. Nur-U-Banu as head of all the women in the sultan's realm was supposed to set an example of womanly good behavior that was to be emulated by all females within her son's dominion. It was thus for the other women of the sultan's party, including some dozen maidens from the harem, to follow along behind him and the prince which they quite happily did.

The gardens were a riot of color with bulbs of every known kind. Aidan had cleverly had her gardeners plant flats of the earliest bulbs which were kept in the cool darkness of the garden shed until just a few days ago when they were brought out to be planted in the main gardens. Consequently the botanical display ran the entire gamut from snowdrops and crocuses to varieties of narcissi to tulips and hyacinths. Aidan led the sultan to the beginning of a pathway which led into the gardens. Here were beds of pure white snowdrops with round centers of dainty little starch lilies carrying dense heads of small blue, grape-shaped flowers.

Murad stopped to admire the symmetry of the display. He had never considered planting beds of snowdrops, let alone planting them with starch lilies. "Magnificent, my dear Marjallah! Absolutely magnificent!" he enthused. "How in the name of Allah did you manage to get your snowdrops to bloom so late?"

She explained, and then said, "I wanted the gardens to be awash with color for your majesty's visit, and the only way I could do it was to tamper with nature to a small extern. Come though for I have much more to show you," and she led him onward.

They next came upon several beds of colorful crocuses, arranged in wide strips of contrasting and complementary hues. These included a golden flower, whites and creams with lilac patterning, and old gold flushed with bronze, a deep b.u.t.tercup yellow, a white streaked with gray purple, a blue edged with silver with a golden throat, a deep purple, and a dark orange-suffused mahogany. There were also some larger-sized crocuses with colors ranging from blues and mauves, plain or striped, to white and deep mauve with orange throats. It was this last that caught the sultan's fancy, and Aidan promised, "When the bulbs are lifted, your majesty, I will see that you are sent some for naturalizing within the gardens of the Yeni Serai."

"How generous you are, fair Marjallah," said Murad, and he took her hand in his as they walked slowly on to the next display.

Javid Khan noted this with a rising irritation, but knowing his wife he felt no jealousy. Still in all he would be in Istanbul a year come late summer, and when his father's yearly tribute arrived he would take the opportunity to return home with his wife. Let the Great Khan send someone else as his amba.s.sador to the Sublime Porte. Preferably an old man whose wife would not be a temptation to the Sultan Murad.

"Ahhh," breathed the Ottoman ruler as they came upon a rock garden filled with tiny narcissi. Waterworks had been cleverly disguised amid the rock to look like a small spring that bubbled from the top of the hillock to tumble down among the miniature crags into a pool below. Nearest the water grew little hoop petticoats of yellow with their skirt-shaped centers and their narrow little petals. Native to Spain they had been brought to Turkey by Moors fleeing the persecution of the Christian church. These were planted with several varieties of small, sweetly scented jonquils, bunches of blossoms in gold, clear yellow, and white on delicate stems with their rushlike, deep green leaves. The ladies of the harem chattered their delight at this particular display for it was from these jonquils that a rare oil, highly essential to the making of their perfume, was obtained. For contrast in the rock garden Aidan had planted Glory of the Snow, cl.u.s.ters of small funnel-shaped flowers of bright blue with a white base as well as deep blue; Puschkinia with its powder-blue flowers, a deep blue stripe upon each petal; and dainty Siberian Scilla whose blue flowers reminded Aidan of the bluebells in the woods about Pearroc Royal. They were, perhaps for this reason, her favorites.