"The raider is not unknown, dear child. Word came early this morning that my son's Janissaries had caught up late last night with those responsible for the death of Javid Khan and the destruction of his home and his chattels. They have been punished. Even as we speak, all are dead."

"Who?" demanded Aidan. "Who did this terrible thing?"

"It was your husband's twin brother, a savage called Temur. Did you not tell me he was the one responsible for the original attack on Javid Khan's home in the Crimea?"

"Yes," said Aidan, "but then he fled the justice of his father and his family. They could not find him although they searched. You must let me write to the Great Khan of the Crimea, and tell him what has happened."

"Do not trouble yourself, dear child," said the valideh. "The Great Khan will be informed, but by the sultan, his overlord. There is one happy thing I have to tell you, however. Your serving woman was found safe amongst the Tartars. She will be returned to you as soon as our Janissaries reach Istanbul."

A cry of joy burst forth from Iris and Fern who had been seated discreetly in the room awaiting their mistress' orders. "Thank G.o.d," said Aidan fervently.

"Praise Allah," corrected the valideh gently.

"What will now happen to my people and me?" Aidan asked.

Nur-U-Banu hesitated a moment, and then she said, "It is the custom of our country that as Javid Khan was an amba.s.sador, and therefore here at the sultan's request, and consequently under imperial Ottoman protection, that the sultan take his widow into his harem as one of his wives."

"No!" Aidan's voice was sharp, and she looked horrified.

"Dear child, it is an honor that my son chooses you," said the valideh patiently.

"I do not wish it!" Aidan cried. "Please understand, dear madame. It is not that I am ungrateful, but as I am a free woman now, I should far prefer to return to my own homeland. There is no legal reason for me not to do so."

"My dear Marjallah, have we not discussed this before? You cannot possibly return to your homeland. You know how you would be received, and what if your husband has remarried? You have been gone almost a year. How awful for your poor first husband to have you appear upon his doorstep now. What if his new bride were with child? I know the Christian faith. He would be forced to reinstate you as his wife, but he would not want you, nor could he possibly bring himself to cohabit with you as a man and a wife. His new bride's child, his heir, would be considered a b.a.s.t.a.r.d babe. Could you really do that to a man you claim to have loved? Could you do that to some innocent girl, and her equally innocent child, your husband's only heir? I do not think you could.

"Dear Marjallah, I know how painful the death of your beloved Javid Khan, has been for you. I realize that his loss makes you remember the life you had before you came to us, but that life with Javid Khan is dead. You must begin anew, and my son, Murad, has admired you from the moment he saw you. Safiye and I rejoice to have you here with us. We all only want to make you happy."

"Safiye is not known for her love of her husband's other women," said Aidan bluntly. "I should rather be a servant in your house, or even be sold in the slave markets of the city than lose one of the few friends I have here."

"Safiye is delighted that in your sorrow there is a flame of hope, Marjallah. I swear to you that she will welcome you as a sister, and not an enemy." The valideh turned and said to Jinji, "Go to the bas kadin, and say that the sultan valideh wished to see her here in the apartment of the lady Marjallah." She turned back again to Aidan. "In the time of Sultan Selim I his four kadins were close friends who loved and supported one another. Safiye's att.i.tude toward my son's other women is actually all Murad's fault. Both were quite young when they fell in love, and Murad would look at no other female but Safiye for too many years. Then when he finally realized the danger of having but one child, and began to take other women, have other children, she naturally became jealous. Certainly you can understand that?

"The other women of the harem then aligned themselves against Safiye for they were jealous of her position, and of her very healthy son, Memhet, who is his father's heir. It is, of course, entirely out of hand now, but what can I do? I cannot force them to like each other. You, however, are a different matter. You and Safiye have been friends since your arrival here. Nothing will change, I promise you, and Safiye will rea.s.sure you of that herself."

The words were scarcely out of the valideh's mouth when Safiye arrived. She looked particularly beautiful this morning, and Nur-U-Banu was again struck by the difference between the two women. There was a lushness about her son's favorite, a glow. Poor Marjallah on the other hand was pale and woebegone. Safiye instantly saw the differences, and was immediately sympathetic to her friend, and once again curious as to what it was about Marjallah that fascinated Murad so very much that he must possess her.

"Marjallah! Dear friend!" Safiye sat next to Aidan and put an arm about her. "I am so very sorry about Javid, but still that cruel tragedy has brought you back to us."

"The lady valideh tells me that as the sultan was responsible for the safety of his amba.s.sadors, it is custom that he take me for one of his wives. Is it so?"

"Yes," said Safiye without hesitation, "and I am so happy that we will be sisters. You will be so good for my lord Murad, unlike those silly and foolish creatures he usually chooses. Is it really a wonder that I despise them? You, however, are a different matter. You are my friend, and I am glad we can continue to be so."

"I don't want this, Safiye. I really don't want this. Could not the sultan simply allow me his protection? Why must I be one of his women?"

"Oh, Marjallah! You must not he afraid of my lord Murad! Besides if he did not take you for one of his own, Javid Khan's family might insist you be sent to them. Surely you don't want to go to the Crimea? It is a terribly uncivilized place. Why until the last hundred years the Tartars roamed the steppes, and lived in tents! You cannot speak their language, and as Javid Khan's widow you would be under their control. They could marry you off to anyone they chose, even someone in a land more distant than theirs. Oh, Marjallah! You cannot leave me! You are the only real friend that I have!" wailed Safiye.

"Safiye, I don't want to forfeit our friendship, I truly don't, but I do not want to be one of the sultan's women. How can I go to his bed with my beloved Javid barely in his grave? I shudder to even contemplate it!"

Safiye misunderstood Aidan's reasoning, and thinking to comfort her friend she said, "Murad is the most marvelous lover any woman could have, Marjallah. He is so wonderfully masterful, and in his arms you will die a thousand sweet deaths!"

Aidan sighed. "Safiye, were you a virgin when you came to Sultan Murad's bed?" Safiye nodded. "You have never known any other man! I have, and am therefore in a better position to judge a man's prowess in pa.s.sion. That, however, is not my objection. I simply do not want to be forced into another relationship so quickly. It is indecent!"

Her logic made both the valideh and the bas kadin uncomfortable for secretly both women agreed with her. Both knew that what Murad was doing was not only indecent, but insulting as well to the memory of Javid Khan, and to the honor of his wife. Still both knew that once Murad set his mind to something there was little that could deter him from his chosen whim. Safiye looked to Nur-U-Banu for help. It was, she thought, after all the valideh's obligation first.

"Dear child, dear child! How wonderfully delicate are your feminine sensibilities, but you are much too harsh. I would not call Murad's decision indecent, but rather proper devotion to custom. By making you his wife immediately he does the memory of Javid Khan honor for his actions say that he accepts the responsibility of what has happened, painful and as personally embarra.s.sing as it may be to him, and to his government. For such a terrible event to occur in my son's empire, so close to his capital city, is deeply shameful. What must other governments think when they hear of it? Still his treatment of you, Javid Khan's widow, shows that he is an honorable man. Do not deny my son that, dear child, I beg of you!"

"When do I become the sultan's?" Aidan demanded irritably. Her head still hurt, and both Nur-U-Banu and Safiye were making her feel ungrateful for Murad's wonderful generosity simply because she did not want to be his new wife.

"It is tradition that a new woman go to him on Friday," said the valideh.

"This Friday?" Aidan looked positively horrified.

"I realize it is soon," said the valideh, "but there must be no delay in Murad's accepting you. You must understand that, dear child."

"Am I allowed no time to mourn the good man who loved me?" said Aidan.

"Of course you will mourn him, Marjallah. I suspect that you will mourn him for many weeks, but the prince would comprehend both your position, and the sultan's. He was a man who understood the stern obligations of one's duty."

My G.o.d, thought Aidan, she makes it all seem so correct, and I know that it is not! The sultan l.u.s.ts after me, and I could see it when he came to our palace several days ago. She shuddered. I don't want to belong to him. I don't! I should rather be dead!

"Marjallah," Safiye said softly, "my lord Murad will understand your sorrow. He will be kind. I have never known him to be unkind to a woman."

Aidan looked up at Nur-U-Banu and at Safiye. They were both beautiful women. Extremely beautiful women. She couldn't remember seeing a female in this palace who wasn't lovely. Even the servant women were. She had never been a woman to hide from the truth. She was not beautiful. Pretty, perhaps. But not beautiful, and certainly not even pretty in grief. Although she had no mirror to see herself in she knew that her nose was red, and her face puffy with her crying. Neither the sultan valideh nor the bas kadin, Aidan wagered silently to herself, would ever look so unattractive in sorrow. They probably looked better! There were women like that.

She was not about to accept this fate meekly. Drawing a deep breath she said, "I do not understand why the sultan wants me, and please, I beg of you, do not prattle to me of his obligations. I am no beauty, and well I know it. There are several hundred women in this harem, and more gorgeous maidens arriving every day. I doubt the sultan has seen even half of the women who are brought here for his pleasure. Why must he have me? Can he not fulfill his duty simply by respecting my grief, and sheltering me until he finds another man whom he wishes to honor with a wife?"

Both Nur-U-Banu and Safiye were at a loss to refute Aidan's arguments for she spoke with logic, and neither woman was so stupid that she did not understand. Again Safiye looked to the valideh for it really was her place to handle this matter.

"I cannot disagree with what you say, Marjallah," said Nur-U-Banu. "Were you an ordinary wife what you suggest is probably just what my son would do. You, however, were a gift from the dey in Algiers. You were wife to one of his most useful and powerful allies. To pa.s.s you on to some other man as if you were merely a well-bred animal would be unthinkable. No, dear girl, Murad honors the memory of Javid Khan and his people by taking you for his own." She turned herself, and facing Aidan took her face between her hands. "That is the way it must be, Marjallah. I know that you understand me when I tell you that."

"Yes, madame, I understand you," Aidan replied, but she was unable to keep the mutinous tone from her voice. It was useless speaking with the sultan's mother and his favorite. They would, of course, take his side of the matter. Perhaps the sultan would understand better. After all the power was really with him. She could not ask to see him now for they would never allow such a thing, but on Friday night when she was brought to him she would tell him of her feelings, and perhaps if he were the sensitive man his women seemed to think he was, he would understand her position and her feelings, and release her. She was, after all, a free woman. Had not Javid gone to the kadi and had her papers of manumission drawn up? They all knew it for Javid Khan had spoken of it often. Tartars, he said, did not marry slaves. Their wives were free women.

Nur-U-Banu smiled at Aidan now. "It is settled then, my child. On Friday night you will go to my son, and I know you will find joy with him."

"Yes," said Safiye encouragingly, "and you and I shall be sisters together. It shall be with us as it is with Janfeda and our mother valideh."

Aidan wanted to scream. Javid Khan was barely gone, and the sultan was planning his seduction with a boldness that astounded her. It was obvious that he felt no shame in his actions. The idea of death flirted with her consciousness once again. Something within her did not quite believe Nur-U-Banu and Safiye when they said her road home to England was closed. She could not believe that Conn had replaced her in either his heart or his bed. Not yet. Conn was not a man who gave himself lightly. She was not a slave anymore. She was free to go home, wasn't she? If she could only get a message to the English amba.s.sador, William Harborne, who had arrived in Turkey last summer. Perhaps Esther Kira would smuggle a message out for her. If she could not go home, she preferred death to belonging to the sultan.

During the next few days, however, she had no opportunity to speak with Esther. Her movements were kept restricted, and she was allowed no freedom but for her own and Nur-U-Banu's apartments, and the valideh's planted courtyard. Such confinement made her extremely edgy for she was not used to it. Her diet was a rich one, and the sultan's mother virtually stood over her to be certain that she ate every mouthful upon her plate.

"You are too thin," the valideh said with a smile. "We must put a bit more flesh upon your bones."

Aidan had no knowledge of the fact that her diet had been specifically tailored by the agha kislar, Ilban Bey, who was the sultan valideh's ally. Her meals were filled with foods believed to be conducive to increasing pa.s.sion, and they were laced as well with herbs and drugs to increase her sensitivity and increase her awareness. She was also bathed twice daily and ma.s.saged with creams and lotions to refine her beautiful skin even more. It seemed to Aidan that she spent her entire time in either eating, sleeping, or washing. I can't live like this, she thought. I will go mad with the boredom!

Early Friday afternoon Aidan found herself taking part in the customary bridal bath, a tradition for those chosen to share the sultan's couch for the first time. Escorted by Nur-U-Banu and the bas kadin she led a procession consisting of every young woman in the harem to the baths. The sultan valideh and the kadins were attired in rich brocaded garments, but the rest of the women wore simple white silk robes, and each one carried a yellow tulip.

When they reached the baths Aidan was turned over to the head bath mistress by the valideh. The other women of the harem lined themselves about the room, standing against the walls, and sang a song that wished Aidan joy and good fortune in her chosen fate. At the conclusion of their melody the maidens of the harem flung their flowers at Aidan, and then turning as one they all trooped out. Nur-U-Banu kissed Aidan on the cheek, and then she and the kadins departed the room.

It seemed rather funny to Aidan that she was to be bathed again as if she had never been bathed at all over these last few days. There wasn't a .single superfluous hair upon her body but for her head yet they smeared her with the almond-smelling pink paste that removed hair, and she was surprised to see a fine down wash away. Her hair was washed as it had been washed at least once a day since her return to the Yeni Serai, and then it was rinsed with lemon juice to encourage its fiery highlights. Her fingernails and her toenails were pared and shaped, the toes much shorter lest she offend the Shadow of Allah by inadvertently scratching him. She flushed as she had flushed twice daily in the baths as she was laid upon her back upon a marble ma.s.sage bench, and her private parts delicately bathed first with warm water, then a mild mixture of soap and water, and finally with a gentle rinse of warmed water again.

She was ma.s.saged over her entire body with fragrant lotion, and not an inch of her skin was left untouched. The supple hands of the ma.s.seuse kneaded her arms and her legs, dug into the muscles of her back, smoothed over her torso, and skillfully manipulated her b.r.e.a.s.t.s until the nipples stood hard and throbbed. She knew that she should be used to it by now, but such treatment, however pleasant, embarra.s.sed her.

At last she was deemed fit for the sultan, and she was wrapped in a white silk robe, placed in a litter, and returned to her apartments to await the evening when she would be escorted by Ilban Bey to Murad. The heat of the baths, and the hour spent beneath the hands of the ma.s.seuse had exhausted her. She felt weak and helpless and depressed.

Marta hurried forward to help her from the litter. The serving woman had been returned unharmed two days prior, and she told Aidan and the others of what had happened after her mistress had departed for the city to fetch Esther Kira back. She had seen that the prince arose, and fetched him light refreshment, and had then helped him to dress. He had left her to go to the stables, and that was the last she had seen of him. She had been going about her usual morning duties, seeing to the bed, when the Tartars had burst into the harem. At first she believed she would be raped, and murdered, but instead she had been carried off, the only survivor of the raid, thrown rudely across the saddle of one of her captors. She had seen the courtyard filled with the decapitated bodies of the other servants, seen the piles of heads by the gate; and then fainted. When she regained consciousness she found herself seated before her captor on his galloping horse, and they had ridden without stopping until well after dark. When they had finally stopped it was to fix a meal and see to their horses. She knew now that she had been carried off so that they might take their pleasure of her at their leisure, and she was frightened. Fortunately the sultan's Janissaries had ridden in to slay the Tartars before she might be harmed, and she had been rescued.

Both Aidan and Marta's daughters had welcomed her back warmly. She was not dear familiar Mag, thought Aidan, but she was a loyal servant. Even now she gently aided her mistress to her couch saying, "You need some food in your stomach, my lady. You missed the midday meal and you look positively pale."

Aidan said nothing. She knew that Marta was enormously relieved that they were safe in the Yeni Serai, and pleased that the sultan had chosen her mistress to grace his bed. Marta had liked the prince, but her practical peasant nature told her that Javid Khan was dead, and they had to live. "I could eat some fruit," Aidan told the serving woman to be amenable.

The lady Marjallah's wish was their command, and a platter of luscious fruits was instantly produced. Aidan ate an apricot, and then lay back, her eyes closed, feigning sleep so that they would not fuss at her to eat more. She was beginning to feel more and more like a prize brood animal, and it annoyed her. If only she had been enceinte with Javid Khan's child then perhaps she might have escaped the sultan.

It disturbed her that since the loss of her baby almost a year ago that she had not conceived again, but then she questioned herself, had she really wanted to have a child by someone other than Conn? She had been forced to accept the situation in which she found herself, but even Javid Khan's marriage with her had not, in her heart of hearts, been a real marriage. She had accepted it as she had accepted him, believing that she had no other choice for they were always telling her that she didn't. Aidan hadn't known what to expect for this whole world was foreign to her. The prince had been a good man, and because she knew that he had honored her by freeing her and making her his wife she had called him husband. He had said he loved her, and she had had no doubts that he did. The sultan, however, was a different matter.

She couldn't be certain if the story the sultan's mother told her about his obligations toward her was truth or simply a tale spun to gain her cooperation because Murad l.u.s.ted aftet her. If it was truth then she wanted to free him of his obligation. The prince had made her a free woman, and come what may she wanted to return home. She did not want to remain in the Yeni Serai, a victim to the sultan's pa.s.sions. Yet here she was, pampered and perfumed, and awaiting the evening when she was to be brought to Murad. She didn't know what to do other than tell him how she felt, and hope that he would release her. If he would not, Aidan thought, she would find a way to kill herself for she had no intention of remaining here the rest of her life. Oh, Conn, she thought, I want to come home! I want to come home!

"Home," Conn said quietly. "I want to bring my wife home. My sister's bankers in London told me that you could help me, madame. If you cannot, then I shall find someone who can."

Esther Kira sighed. "No one, my lord, can help you retrieve your wife. She is in the sultan's harem. My nephew in London had no right to tell you that I could aid you." Then her voice softened at the disappointment in his face, and she said, "If you had come just a few days ago, my lord, I might have considered helping you, but now I cannot. The success of my family is tightly entwined with that of the imperial Ottoman dynasty. To help you I should have to betray them, and I cannot do it, my lord. You English believe strongly in your honor, do you not? Well, I, too, have my honor."

"If you would have been willing to aid me a few days ago, madame, why not now?" he demanded.

Esther Kira seated herself comfortably upon her divan, and called to her servants for coffee and little honey-sesame cakes. Then she set about to explain to Conn his wife's history since her arrival in Istanbul. She finished by saying, "Now that the sultan desires her it is a different matter, but tell me, my lord. If you want your wife back why did you wait so long to come after her? She has been here for over eight months."

"And we have been caught in Algiers ever since last September," said Conn, and then he went on to explain to Esther Kira the sultan's punishment against the countries of Europe who had fought against him with the Portuguese.

"Aiiii," said the matriarch shaking her head, "it is as if the fates themselves have conspired against you. I am so sorry, my lord Bliss, but there is nothing I can do now to help you."

"I cannot leave without her," Conn said stubbornly. "I will not leave without her. She is the only woman that I have ever loved, will ever love!"

"It is strange," said Esther Kira, "but she has that effect upon men. Prince Javid Khan adored her, even going as far as to free her from slavery, and make her his wife. And the sultan, whose harem is filled to overflowing with beauteous virgins, has coveted her ever since he saw her, and would have had her these months past but that his mother had convinced him to give the dey's gift to Prince Javid Khan, sight unseen. When he saw her he greatly regretted it. It is strange for the lady Marjallah is not a beautiful woman, and the sultan is proud of the fact that his harem contains more beautiful women than any potentate's on this earth." She chuckled softly. "Beauty, however, fades, and if one has naught else to recommend oneself then what is left? Perhaps Sultan Murad is, at long last, growing sated with beauty, and seeks a woman of substance. Marjallah has great character."

"Twice you have used the name Marjallah," said Conn. "Who is Marjallah?"

"Marjallah is the name your wife was given when she arrived here. You could not expect they would call her by her English name. Marjallah means A Gift from the Sea, and she did indeed come across the sea to us."

"Esther Kira," said Conn, "have pity on me. I do not ask you to break faith with the sultan and his family for I do indeed understand your position; but Sultan Murad has a harem full of women, and I have but one wife. There must be some way in which you can help me."

The old woman pursed her lips, and he could see that she was considering his words. Thoughtfully she looked at him. He was the handsomest man she had ever seen, and she found it interesting that such an attractive man would be married to Marjallah. She had no doubt as to his sincerity for she had not survived so long in her world without the ability of being able to read a person's character correctly. She could see the pain in his green eyes, hear the sorrow in his voice. He obviously loved his wife, and really did want her back. It did not seem to disturb him that she had cohabited with another man, or was in danger of finding herself in the sultan's bed shortly. He wanted her back. "Perhaps," she said slowly, "perhaps there is a way, but I do not promise you, my lord. I only say perhaps. Do you understand me? It is but a slim chance, and only that."

"Tell me?" he begged her.

"No," she answered him, "I must first consider how to go about it, and I do not want to share my thoughts with anyone. Would you understand me if I told you my luck is in not revealing my plans on anything I undertake to anyone until I am certain those plans will work?"

"Yes," he said, "I understand that," and for the first time he smiled, and Esther Kira thought again that he was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen.

"Where are you staying, my lord?"

"You will be able to reach me at the palace of the English amba.s.sador," he said. "My wife was a ward of her majesty before we were wed, and the queen is very fond of Aidan. As she has an interest in this matter, her emba.s.sy is open to me."

"If your queen is so concerned then why did she not approach the Sublime Porte herself?" demanded Esther Kira.

"I think you know the answer to that," replied Conn. "It is important that England build its trade with the Levant to counter Spain's hold over the new world. Trade is the lifeblood of my nation. As fond as Elizabeth Tudor is of Aidan she would not jeopardize the trading agreements of an entire nation for one person."

Esther Kira nodded. "Be certain," she warned him, "that both you, and those of your party are discreet in your dealing about the city. There is little that the sultan does not know about. There are spies everywhere. The sultan's spies, his mother's, those of his heir's mother, his other favorites, the vizier's, not to mention those of rival nations to your England. Trust no one, and draw no attention to yourselves lest the sultan learn the true nature of your business. I will contact you when I know it what I am considering is possible, or not possible. Perhaps you might even leave Istanbul for a short time to seek goods elsewhere. Sail across the Mamara, and go to Brusa for silk. It is not far, and it will look as if you have no real purpose here but that of trade. It will take me at least a week or more before I can know if my plans are workable."

"We shall do it," he agreed, for he thought that if he remained here in Istanbul he would be sorely tempted to storm the sultan's great palace, and rescue his wife, and that was a foolish notion.

"Good!" said Esther Kira. "You show common sense, yet I know it cannot be easy for you. Now should anyone ask why you came to see me you will tell them that your family banks with mine."

"Of course," he said, "and it is the truth, isn't it?"

She cackled a sharp bark of laughter. "So," she said, "you have learned that the best deception is the truth, my lord? You are, I think, a dangerous man."

"And you," he answered her with a smile, "are no better, Esther Kira. You hide behind the reputation for weakness of your s.e.x, but you are a tough old spider who sits firmly in the center of a strong web. You are totally in control."

"I must be," she said, suddenly serious, "for I am that most despised of creatures, both a woman and a Jewess."

"Was not Jesus a Jew?" he said as he arose from the pillows.

She nodded slowly, and her eyes met his in a glance of total understanding. "You will hear from me, Lord Bliss," she said.

"Thank you, madame," he answered formally, "and farewell for now."

She watched him go from the room, and the door closed behind him. He was a strong man for one so very young, and she had no doubt that should her plan not be possible, that he would somehow find a way of retrieving his wife even if it meant turning the Ottoman dynasty upside down. She liked him, and she was beginning to see why Marjallah had mourned him in her heart all these months. Poor Marjallah. Although she had been kept from the girl the past several days she had seen Safiye in her apartments, and learned that Javid Khan's widow would be presented to the sultan for his pleasure this night. Would she yield, or would she fight her fate? Esther Kira was concerned for her young friend.

The door to her salon opened, and her great-granddaughter Rachael, a pretty maiden of fourteen entered the room. "Great-grandmother Esther," she said in her soft voice, "it is almost sunset, and time for you to light our candles. The family is waiting."

"Help me up, child. I must not he late and offend the Lord for I shall need his help in a small matter soon."

"Does it have to do with that beautiful gentleman who just left you?" asked Rachael aiding her great-grandmother to arise.

Esther Kira chuckled. "You must not ask me such questions, child, nor must you ever admit to having such sharp eyes. Keep your own counsel, Rachael. How many times have I told you that?"

"But if I do not ask questions, great-grandmother, then how am I to learn?" Rachael countered.

"There are questions, and there are questions," said Esther Kira. "Come now, child. The sunset is upon us!" and she hurried from the room with a surprisingly agile gait for one so old.

"Sunset," said Rachael, "and soon some lucky maiden will go to the sultan. If she is wise her fortune will be made, and if she is foolish she will be relegated to the old palace where the forgotten women live. If it were me I should be a wise virgin."

Esther Kira stopped, and turning looked at her great-granddaughter. "G.o.d forbid that it should be you, dear child!"

"But to become a kadin would be so fortunate!"

"Fortunate!" said the agha kislar. "You are the most fortunate of women, Marjallah." Then he handed her a small parcel that was wrapped in a square of cloth of gold, and bound with a rope of pink pearls. "These are the garments that are worn by a woman being presented to his majesty for the very first time. You are to dress now, and then I shall escort you to the sultan myself."