The Slaves of the Padishah - Part 15
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Part 15

CHAPTER IX.

THE AMAZON BRIGADE.

It was three days since Azrael had come into the possession of Ha.s.san Pasha, and in the evening of the third day Haji Baba was sitting in the prow of his ship and rejoicing in the beautiful moonlight when he saw, a long way off, in the direction of the Margaret island a skiff, and then another skiff, and then another, row across the Danube, and heard heart-rending shrieks which only lasted for a short time.

Presently the skiffs disappeared among the trees on the river bank, the last hideous cry died away, and from the rose-groves of the castle came a romantic song which resounded over the Danube through the silent night. The merchant recognised the voice of the odalisk, and listened attentively to it for a long time, and it seemed to him as if through this song those shrieks were pa.s.sing incessantly.

The next day Yffim Beg came to see him, and the merchant hospitably welcomed him. He set before him a narghile and little cups of sherbet, and then they settled down comfortably to their pipes, but neither of them uttered a word.

Thus a good hour pa.s.sed away; then at last Haji Baba opened his mouth.

"During the night I saw some skiffs row out towards the island, and I heard the sound of stifled shrieks."

And then they both continued to pull away at their narghiles, and another long hour pa.s.sed away.

Then Yffim Beg arose, pressed the hand of Haji Baba, and said, just as he was moving off:

"They were the favourite damsels of Ha.s.san Pasha, who had been sewn up in leathern sacks and flung into the water."

Haji Baba shook his head, which signifies with a Turk: I antic.i.p.ated that.

Not long afterwards the whole host began to a.s.semble below Pesth, encamping on the bank of the Danube; a bridge suddenly sprang into sight, and across it pa.s.sed army corps, heavy cannons and wagons. First there arrived from Belgrade the Vizier Aga, with a bodyguard of nine thousand men, and pitched their tents on the Rakas; after him followed Ismail Pasha, with sixteen thousand Janissaries, and their tents covered the plain. The Tartar Khan's disorderly hordes, which might be computed at forty thousand, extended over the environs of Vacz; and presently Prince Ghyka also arrived with six thousand hors.e.m.e.n, and along with him the picked troops of the Vizier of Buda; the whole army numbered about one hundred thousand.

So Haji Baba did a roaring trade. There were numerous purchasers among so many Turkish gentlemen; there was something to suit everyone, for the prices were graduated; and Haji thought he might perhaps order up a fresh consignment from his agents at Belgrade, hoping to sell this off rapidly so long as the camp remained. But he very much wanted to know how long the concentration would go on, and how many more gentlemen were still expected to join the host, and with that object he sought out Yffim Beg.

The Beg answered straightforwardly that nearly everyone who had a mind to come was there already. The Prince of Transylvania had treacherously absented himself from the host, and only Kucsuk Pasha and young Feriz Beg's brigades were still expected; without them the army would move no farther.

At the mention of these names Haji Baba started.

"You have as good as made me a dead man, sir. I must now go back to Stambul with my whole consignment."

"Art thou mad?"

"No, but I shall become bankrupt, if I wait for these gentlemen. Never, sir, can I live in the same part of the world, sir, with those fine fellows, whom may Allah long preserve for the glory of our nation! I have two houses on the opposite sh.o.r.es of the Bosphorus, so that when these n.o.ble gentlemen are in Europe I may be in Asia, and when they come to Asia I may sail over to Europe."

"Thou speakest in riddles."

"Then you have not heard the fame of Feriz Beg?"

"I have heard him mentioned as a valiant warrior."

"And how about the brigade of damsels which is wont to follow him into battle?"

Yffim Beg burst out laughing at these words.

"It is easy for you to laugh, sir, for you have never dealt in damsels like me. But you should know that what I tell you is no jest, and Feriz Beg is as great a danger to every man who trades in women as plague or small-pox."

"I never heard of this peculiarity of his."

"But I have. I tell you this Feriz Beg is a youth with magic power, in whose eyes is hidden a talisman, whose forehead is inscribed with magic letters, and from whose lips flow sorcery and magic spells, so that whenever he looks upon a woman, or whenever she hears his words even through a closed door, that woman is lost for ever. Just as he upon whom the moon shines when he is asleep is obliged to follow the moon from thenceforth, so, too, this young man draws after him with the moonbeams of his eyes all the women who look upon him. Ah! many is the great man who has cursed the hour in which Feriz Beg galloped past his windows and thereby turned the heads of the most beauteous damsels. Even the Grand Vizier himself has wept the loss of his favourite bayadere Zaida, who descended from his windows by a silken cord into the sea, and swam after the ship which bore along Feriz Beg; and one night my kinsman, Kutub Alnuma, who is a far greater slave merchant than I am, was, while he slept, tied hand and foot by his own damsels to whom he heedlessly had pointed out Feriz Beg, and the whole lot incontinently ran after him."

"And what does the youth do with all these women?"

"Oh, sir, that is the most marvellous part of the whole story. For if he culled all the fairest flowers of earth for the sake of love, I would say that he was a wise man, who tasted the joys of Paradise beforehand.

But it is quite another thing, sir. You will be horrified when I tell you that he at whose feet all the beauties of earth fling themselves, never so much as greets one of them with a kiss."

"Is he sick, then, or mad?"

"He loves another damsel, a Christian girl, who is far from here, and for whom he has pined from the days of his childhood. At the time of his first battle he saw this girl for the first time, and as often as he has gone to war since, it is always with her name upon his lips that he draws his sword."

"And what happens to the girls he takes away?"

"When the first of these flung themselves at his feet, offering him their hearts and their very lives and imploring him to kill them if he would not requite their love, to them he replied: 'You have not been taught to love as I love. Your love awoke in the shadows of rose-bushes, mine amidst the flashing of swords; you love sweet songs, and the voice of the nightingale, I love the sound of the trumpet. If you would love me, love as I do; if you would be with me, come whither I go; and if Allah wills it, die where I die.' Ah, sir, there is an accursed charm on the lips of this young man. He destroys the hearts of the damsels with his words so that they forget that Allah gave them to men as playthings and delightful toys, and they gird swords upon their tender thighs, fasten cuira.s.ses of mail round their bosoms, and expose their fair faces to deadly swords."

"And do these women really fight, or is it all a fable?"

"They do wonders, sir. No one has ever seen them fly before the foe, and frequently they are victorious; and if they have less strength in their arms than men, they have ten times more fire in their hearts. And if at any one point the fight is most dogged, and the enemy collecting together his most valiant bands has tired out the hardly-pressed spahis and timariots, then the youth draws his sword and plunges into the blackest of mortal peril. And then the wretched women all plunge blindly after him, and each one of them tries to get nearest to him, for they know that every weapon is directed against him, and they ward off with their bosoms the bullets which were meant for him. And so long as the youth remains there, or presses forward, they never leave him, the whole battalion perishes first. And at last, if he wins the fight and remains master of the field, the youth dismounts from his horse, collects the bodies of the slain who have fallen fighting beside him, kisses them one by one on their foreheads, sheds tears on their pale faces, and with his own hands lays them in the grave. And, believe me, sir, these bewitched, enchanted damsels are mad after that kiss, and their only wish is to gain it as soon as possible."

"And is there none to put an end to this scandal? Have the generals no authority to abolish this abomination? Do not the outraged owners demand back their slave-girls?"

"You must know, sir, that Feriz Beg stands high in the favour of the Sultan. He is never prominent anywhere but on the battlefield, but there he gives a good account of himself; and if anybody who came to his tents to try and recover his slave-girls by force, he might easily be sent about his business minus his nose and ears. Besides, who could say that these warriors of Feriz are women? Do they not dispense thrusts and slashes instead of kisses? Do you ever hear them sing or see them dance and smile so long as they are under canvas? Oh, sir, I a.s.sure you that you would do well if you told all those who buy slave-girls from me to guard the damsels from the enchanting dark eyes of this man, for there is a talisman concealed in them. And, in particular, forget not to tell your master to conceal his damsel, for you know not what might happen if a magician caused a female Iblis[15] to enter into her. If an enamoured woman is terrible, what would an enamoured she-devil be? You bought her, take care that she does not sell you! The day before yesterday you threw his favourite women into the water, the day after to-morrow you might----but Allah guard my tongue, I will not say what I would. Watch carefully, that's all I'll say. Yet to keep a watch upon women is the most difficult of sciences. If you want to get into a beleagured fortress, hide an enamoured woman in it, and she'll very soon show you the way in. Take heed to what I say, sir, for if you forget my words but for half an hour, I would not give my little finger-nail for your head."

[Footnote 15: Evil spirit.]

Whereupon Yffim Beg arose without saying a word and withdrew, deeply pondering the words of the slave-dealer. But Haji Baba that same night drew up his anchors, and at dawn he had vanished from the Danube, none knew whither.

CHAPTER X.

THE MARGARET ISLAND.

On the Margaret island, in the bosom of the blue Danube, was the paradise of Ha.s.san Pasha, and to behold its treasures was death. At every interval of twenty yards stands a eunuch behind the groves of the island with a long musket, and if any man fares upon the water within bullet-reach, he certainly will never tell anyone what he saw.

Paradise exhales every intoxicating joy, every transient delight; it is full of flowers, and no sooner does one flower bloom than another instantly fades away; and this also is the fate of those flowers which are called damsels, for some of these likewise fade in a day, whilst others are culled to adorn the table of the favourite. This, I say, is the fate of all the flowers, and frequently in those huge porcelain vases which stand before Azrael's bed, among its wreaths of roses and pomegranate flowers, one may see the head of an odalisk with drooping eyes who yesterday was as bright and merry as her comrades, the rose and pomegranate blossoms.

Oh, that woman is a veritable dream! Since he possessed her Ha.s.san Pasha is no longer a man, but a piece of wax which receives the impression of her ideas. He hears nothing but her voice, and sees nothing but her.

Already they are beginning to say that Ha.s.san Pasha no longer recognizes a man ten feet off, and is no longer able to distinguish between the sound of the drum and the sound of the trumpet. And it is true, but whoever said so aloud would be jeopardizing his head, for Ha.s.san would conceal his failings for fear of being deprived of the command of the army if they became generally known.

All the better does Yffim Beg see and hear, Yffim Beg who is constantly about Azrael; if he were not such an old and faithful favourite of Ha.s.san Pasha he might almost regret that he has such good eyes and ears.

But Azrael's penetrating mind knows well enough that Yffim Beg's head stands much more firmly on his shoulders than stand the heads of those whom Ha.s.san Pasha sacrifices to her whims, so she flatters him, and it is all the worse for him that she does flatter.

Ha.s.san Pasha, scarce waiting for the day to end and dismissing all serious business, sat him down in his curtained pinnace, known only to the dwellers on the fairy island, and had himself rowed across to his hidden paradise, where, amidst two hundred attendant damsels, Azrael, the loveliest of the living, awaits him in the hall of the fairy kiosk, round whose golden trellis work twine the blooms of a foreign sky.

Yffim Beg alone accompanies the Pasha thither.