Bertrice Small - Love Wild and Fair

"There's a trunk in your cabin. You'll find suitable garments in it for both you and your mistress." Then he patted her cheek. "You're a good little wench," he said kindly. "I hope we didn't hurt you too greatly last night."

"No," she whispered, blushing furiously. And fleeing back to the cabin next door, she allowed herself the luxury of a few tears. She found the trunk and, opening it, saw that it contained all manner of indecent-looking garments. She lifted out sheer silk pantaloons, gauze blouses, brocaded boleros, see-through little veils, and soft kid slippers.

"Are ye all right?" The question made her jump, and she turned to see Cat sitting up in the bunk.

"Aye, my lady."

"Were ye raped?"

Susan's head drooped, and she sank down beside her mistress. "Aye," she whispered.

"Why did ye lie to me, lass? Ye were a virgin, weren't ye?"

Susan nodded, then said simply, "I couldn't leave ye alone, my lady. I thought ye'd need me. It wasn't too terrible. Just the officers, and there were only three of them-one just a boy."

Cat put a protective arm about her servant. "Oh, Susan! I am so sorry, my dear. I would nae have had this happen to ye for all the world. I was no help to ye at all, fainting like a green girl! What has happened? Where are we? And who are they?"

"Everyone at the villa is dead except May. Once they had us they did not search further, thank God. They are Turkish corsairs, and have orders to convey us to Istanbul. Ye are to be a gift to the grand vizier, Cicalazade Pasha-from his sister, the Contessa di LiCosa."

"What?" Cat's face was incredulous. " 'Tis absurd! She carina do such a thing!" Then, "My God! She has! I hope Francis strangles her! If her brother is anything like Angela…"

"Khair-ad-Din tells me that the vizier is very important. There will be no ransom. And no escape."

Cat closed her eyes for a moment, then said, "We must not panic. Yesterday I gave in to fear, but I will not allow it to conquer me again. I must survive to revenge myself on Angela di LiCosa. I must survive to return to Francis. Dinna be afraid, my faithful Susan." The leaf-green eyes twinkled for a moment. "Ye did tell me ye wanted to travel, did ye not, lass? What stories ye'll have to tell yer grandchildren!"

Susan couldn't help but laugh, and Cat was relieved. The young woman was indeed made of strong fiber. Well, why not? She was a Leslie!

"Get dressed, my girl, and pick something out for me too. My God, the garments are thin enough, aren't they? Oh, Susan-one thing. Confide in no one but me. Trust no one but me. Together we shall outwit the Turk. And I, for one, shall enjoy it!"

Happy to see that she had cheered Susan, Cat wondered silently to herself if there would ever come a time again when her life was quiet and orderly. Then, forcing herself to the humor in her predicament, she laughed and said, "Oh, well, I should probably be very bored with an orderly existence!"

EVEN the fates seemed to be conspiring to whisk her quickly to her destination. The ship sped down the Tyrrhenian Sea through the Straits of Messina, and into the Mediterranean towards Crete, where they stopped to take on water and fresh food. A small shiver ruffled Cat's outward calm as she gazed at the shoreline and realized that she was following in her great-grandmother's footsteps.

For the first time the fairy story of Janet Leslie's life became real to her great-granddaughter, and Cat was afraid. She wondered if the thirteen-year-old Janet had been afraid. At least I won't be exhibited naked on the slave block, she thought with relief. If you please the grand vizier you won't, a small nagging voice whispered in her head. But what if he does not like you? How can you possibly compete with young girls? You are over thirty!

"Why do you frown so, little girl?" inquired Khair-ad-Din, who had taken to playing chess with her in the evenings. "Are you finally ready to admit that I am a better chess player than a mere woman?"

Forced from her nightmare, Cat laughed. "No, you old sea trout! I am not!" Then her lovely face became serious again.

"Tell me," he said. "Share your troubles with me, and perhaps I can ease them."

"I am afraid, Khair-ad-Din. I am no nubile virgin to be offered to the grand vizier. I am a grown woman with children. I have been married twice. What can I possibly offer Cicalazade Pasha? He will laugh at his sister's gift, and sell me in some slave market."

The fat man sitting opposite her looked back at her with sympathy. "Little girl," he said patiently, "have you looked in a mirror lately? There is not a man alive who, given his choice between you and some poor virgin, would choose the virgin. And neither would Cicalazade Pasha. His harem is quite famous. The vizier prefers beauty, charm, and wit to innocence. Let the sultan amuse himself with a weekly procession of virgins-not so with my lord Cicalazade. And another thing, my beauty. If my lord Cicalazade desires to sell you off, I will buy you myself!" And his laughter rumbled throughout the cabin. "I have as much chance of that as I do of being pope," he wheezed, chuckling happily.

The ship sailed on into the Aegean Sea, skirting the small Greek islands. When the ship slipped through the Dardanelles and into the Sea of Marmara, Cat felt a wrench of real loss, knowing that she now had truly left her world.

Already the Turkish clothing she wore felt familiar and comfortable, and she could not help but wonder what Cicalazade Pasha was like. Perhaps when she explained the situation to him he would accept a ransom for her, and allow her and Susan to return home. His reputation belied that of a man so desperate for a woman that he would hold one against her will. Cat comforted herself with that thought. He sounded almost civilized.

They reached Istanbul in late afternoon when the sun was spreading its light across the Golden Horn, giving the newcomers an understanding of the famed waterway's name. Khair-ad-Din sent a messenger immediately to the palace of the grand vizier, and within an hour a closed litter and a troup of armed guards appeared at the ship to take them away,

"It is unlikely I will ever see you again, little girl," said Khair-ad-Din to Cat. "May Allah guide you-even if you are a better chess player than I am."

The tears sprang to her eyes. Impulsively, she kissed Ms cheek. He patted her shoulder and led her onto the deck, where he turned her and Susan over to a black eunuch. -

"I suppose, captain," said the eunuch pettishly to Khair-ad-Din, "that they do not understand Turkish. Which of the barbaric Western tongues must I use?'"

Cat stamped her foot angrily and, speaking in flawless Turkish, berated the eunuch. *Toad! Uncircumcised spawn of pig's offal! How dare you speak to me in such a fashion? In my land I am a great lady. I will not be shown disrespect by such as you!"

The eunuch almost fainted, and Khair-ad-Din bit back his laughter. "The noble lady speaks the truth, Osman. Though she be here against her will, she is a special gift from Cicalazade's sister. She and her servant are to be treated gently."

Osman eyed Cat warily. Here was trouble. His judgment of women slaves was always infallible, and this one would be trouble. "How is it, noble lady, that you speak our tongue? Does your servant also?"

"I learned many languages as a child,” replied Cat, "and yours was one of them. My servant is just learning, but has a good ear."

The eunuch nodded. "It is always easier when they understand yom,” he observed to Khalr-ad-Bin as if Cat wasn't there. "Very well noble lady," he said, turning back to her, "if you and your woman will follow me to the litter." He looked at them. "Are your veils tight? Ah, yes, I can see that they are."

And before she could say another word, she and Susan were hustled off the ship. She barely had time to turn and raise her hand in a gesture of farewell to Khair-ad-Din. The curtains were pulled tightly shut, and she felt a little jolt as the slaves raised the litter and trotted off. She and Susan looked at each other in wonder. Where were they going? They would have given anything to peek through the hangings, but when they ventured a peep out, Osman squeaked with outrage.

The litter moved at an even pace through the noise, breeze, and sea smell of the waterfront to the noise, heat, and human smells of the city, and then to the cooler, quieter area near the Yeni Serai of the sultan. Here along the shores of the Bosporus near the imperial palace was located the smaller palace of the grand vizier. Safe within its courtyard the litter stopped, and was set down, and the curtains opened.

"Please to step out, noble lady," said Osman, and they climbed from the litter. "Your servant will be taken to your quarters, noble lady. You are to come with me to Haramid, the grand eunuch." And Susan found herself being led off by a black slavewoman.

Cat followed Osman into the palace through what seemed a maze of corridors, and finally through a large, carved door into a square room. Sitting on a pile of cushions was a short but enormous coal-black man, dressed in red and blue silk robes. Upon his head was a cloth-of-silver turban with a large center ruby.

"Make obeisance to the grand eunuch," hissed Osman frantically, falling to his knees and bowing low.

"Insect," she whispered fiercely at him. "I am a king's cousin. I kneel to no one but God and my lord."

Rich laughter rumbled forth from the great mountain of flesh. "Well said, woman! My lord Cicalazade likes spirit-provided it is tempered with wisdom." The voice was high, and seemed strange in so large a man. "Osman, wait outside." And as Osman left, the head eunuch turned to Cat. "I am Hammid, master of the vizier's household. What is your name, my beauty?"

Drawing herself up proudly, she said, "I am the Lady Catriona Stewart-Hepburn, the Countess of Bothwell. I am a cousin to his majesty King James of Scotland, who will, on the death of Queen Elizabeth, also be King of England. I am here against my will, having been kidnapped with my servant from my home by your master's sister. She covets my husband, and he refused her. She thinks to revenge herself on us by sending me here. If you will but send word to my husband, Lord Bothwell, he will pay your master double whatever ransom he wishes. There will be a rich reward for you also."

"The vizier is not in the habit of collecting ransoms, woman. You were not sent here for that purpose, as you are well aware. If the vizier's sister wished to extort monies from you she would have done so. She wished you removed from your husband, and saw a chance to do her brother a good turn at the same time." He watched her from beneath hooded lids to see the effect his words would have on her. This was his way of judging her worth. He would have been very disappointed had she not showed spirit.

"I am a married woman," said Cat. "I will not submit to your master. I would sooner be dead!"

The eunuch's laughter again rumbled across the room. "Nonsense," he said. "You are life itself! Do not make idle threats. I have dealt too long with your sex to know when they are serious about suicide." He saw the glint of tears in her eyes, but she shed not a one, and he was pleased that she showed courage in this difficult situation. "Do not be afraid, woman. You are not to be delivered shrieking to my master. You will need a few days of rest to recover from your ordeal, and to observe our ways. Come closer now so I may see you better."

She slowly moved forward until she was standing directly in front of him.

"Disrobe for me, woman."

"No!" She looked startled at -his request, even mutinous.

Hammid sighed. "I do not wish to embarrass you, woman, but if you do not obey me I shall simply call in Osman, and he will do it for me."

For a moment she stood rigid with anger, determined to make it difficult for him. Then, realizing the futility of her situation she shrugged and slowly pulled the veil from her face and then from her head. Next she removed the satin brocade bolero. Her fingers trembled as she undid the tiny pearl buttons on the gauze blouse and took it off. Lastly she kicked the kid slippers from her feet, and stepped from the silk pantaloons.

"Put your hands up behind your head, woman," and when she obeyed him he murmured, "Superb" at her beautiful rounded breasts with their dark-rose nipples. "Loosen your hair, and turn for me." The tawny, honey-colored hair tumbled almost to her waist. He smiled. "When my master sees you, woman, he will be lost You are a delight to the eye. Now dress yourself again, and Osman will take you to your quarters, where your body servant waits. Are you hungry?" She nodded. "I will give orders that you be served a supper immediately. Afterwards you will have a bath, a massage, and a good night's sleep. You will be a new woman. In three days' time I will take you into the city myself, for there is something I wish you to see."