Harem by Colin Falconer Read Free Book Online Page A

with jasmine, her skin pomaded with henna to prevent sweating, her eyes blackened with kohl.
    She was then escorted to the Kiaya of the Robes, who dressed her in a rose-coloured chemise and purple velvet kaftan, with a robe of silver and apricot brocade over the top. The Kiaya of the Jewels brought a diamond necklace as heavy as an iron collar and a string of fat Arabian pearls to plait into her hair, as well as a pair of heavy ruby earrings that reached to her shoulders.
    They must all be returned in the morning, she was told.
    A gediçli held up a mirror so that Hürrem could inspect her reflection. She regarded the apparition that stared back at her with something close to disbelief. 'I look completely hideous.'
    The Kiaya of the Robes put her hands on her hips. 'It is the way.'
    'It is the way to make a man fall on the floor laughing.'
    'You ungrateful little minx. Do you not realize the great honour that has fallen on you? Remember, it happened to me once, so don't think you are so high and mighty. You could end up Mistress of the Robes on day, and no more than that!'
    'If you dressed this way on your big night, it's a wonder he didn't make you Mistress of the Royal Lavatory.'
    The Kiaya hissed with outrage and sent the two gediçli out of the room. 'Now listen here! I don't deny that you and I ever got along too well, but I'm still willing to help you. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I know what it's like, I was gözde once, when Bayezid was Sultan. Let me tell you what you should do to please him …'
    'I do not need advice from a failure. I know what I have to do. I have to get pregnant!' And she swept from the room.
     
     
     

Chapter 11
     
    There were two guards, the same pair who led her to the courtyard earlier in the day. They escorted her along a maze of gloomy, cold cloisters and down a narrow staircase. The hem of her gown and the trailing sleeves of her kaftan kept catching and tearing on the wood. She felt a chill draft of air on her cheek and she was propelled into the night through a heavy iron door. A boxlike carriage was waiting for her. She caught a whiff of horse and ancient leather and then a soft, fleshy hand pulled her inside.
    The carriage jerked forward and the horse's hoofs clattered on the cobbles. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she made out the bulky silhouette of the Kislar Aghasi opposite her.
    'Where are we going?' she said.
    'To the Sultan. He is waiting for you in the Topkapi Saraya.'
    The curtains were drawn. Hürrem tried to shift them aside to peek outside but he snatched her hand away. 'Is it far?' she said.
    'No, not far.' She could feel his eyes watching her, huge and yellow, like a cat. 'The Kapi Aga arranged this for you,' he said.
    'Why would he do that?'
    'A question I have been asking myself all day.'
    'And what answer did you come up with?'
    'I have none. He looks very pale these days, like a man awaiting execution. Have you not noticed?' When she did not answer, he added: 'Or perhaps he is unwell.'
    'Perhaps.'
    'Do not misunderstand me. Should the Kapi Aga fall into disfavour I shall not weep for him.'
    The coach clattered to a halt and the door was thrown open. Hürrem looked quickly around as she stepped down. So this was the Topkapi! The great tower of the Divan loomed above her and torches dotted around the gardens flickered among the bushes. A thousand trees rustled in the night wind.
    Two halberdiers, the heavy tressed plumes on their helmets covering half their faces, ushered her through a massive iron-studded door and into the heart of the seraglio. The Kislar Aghasi wheezed and puffed as he struggled along behind. Hürrem was struck by how orderly and spacious it all seemed after the drabness of the Eski Saraya. The walls here were stone, not wood, and the corridors wider and better lit.
    They reached two wooden doors, inlaid with mother of pearl and tortoiseshell, that led to the Sultan's private chambers. Two of his private bodyguards, the solaks ,