Chapter 15
Fearful for her mistress’s safety, Agata consulted Nadim. “If my lady has a son they both stand in danger,” she fretted, having now learned that often the wives of unwanted princes were also disposed of by a new sultan. “Only God can predict the child’s sex. Better there be no child then.”
“Your mistress is young yet,” Nadim said. “There is time for a child when she can feel safer. If she birthed a son and there was danger, the prince would not leave them behind. Still we can prevent any conception temporarily, Agata. Is that what you wish?”
“In Florence there was a woman who made a potion to do just that. My aunt, Fabia, sought just such a nostrum for my mistress’s mother when she wished to rest between the births of her seven children.”
“Yes, there are such things available here as well,” Nadim said. “Would you have me find such elixir for our lady?”
“Oh, Nadim,” Agata replied, worrying aloud. “Do we dare to interfere with God’s will if we do this? And yet I fear for my mistress.”
“There is no harm in protecting her for the interim, Agata,” the old eunuch said, soothing the servingwoman.
“It will not render her sterile like the others, will it?” Agata asked.
“Maysun and Shahdi were made sterile by a physician in the sultan’s house,” Nadim explained. “Our potion will simply prevent a child temporarily.”
“Then we must do it,” Agata replied.
“First you must make certain she is not already with child. The prince has used Azura most regularly and enthusiastically since she arrived,” the eunuch pointed out.
“Her moon link broke this morning,” Agata said.
“It was on time?” he asked.
“Exactly. She will bleed for four days. No more,” Agata told him.
“Then tomorrow you will begin giving her astrengtheningdrink,” Nadim said. “I will gather the ingredients myself and mix it for you before she awakens.”
Agata nodded her agreement.
For the first time in many months her mistress was happy. She was wed to the man she loved, and if she had lost her family by this action she had gained a new one. Used to the company of other women, Azura was comfortable with Maysun and Shahdi. The three women had settled into a reasonably easeful relationship. Maysun actually seemed content with the situation. Shahdi waited and watched for what she hoped would eventually be her turn.
While the first two wives knew that Amir loved Azura above all others, her presence had brought him home again. He had not been able to take them to Florence, for two women, each called wife, would not have been tolerated, even if he was a foreigner. After several years of being alone for most of the year, Maysun and Shahdi were content to have him back, to have his attentions if only for a few days a month. There was always the chance that Amir would get a child on Azura. Then the first two would share him until well after the child was born.
Amir found himself pleased at how well his household had settled itself with the addition of Azura to his harem. He hunted. He rode and oftentimes he took Azura with him, which at first surprised Maysun and Shahdi. While they had both been raised in a tribal atmosphere, it was the rare woman who rode a horse. Women walked or rode in carts. They watched from a terrace now as Azura and Amir, accompanied by Darius, raced along the sandy edge of the stony beach below their small palace. Their enjoyment of the scene was suddenly interrupted by Diya al Din.
“Are they on the beach?” he asked, looking down to see for himself. “You!” He reached out to grasp at a servant’s arm. “Go down and tell the master he must come at once. A messenger has just come from Istanbul. Hurry! Run!” Turning, he said to the two women, “Go back to the harem, ladies.”
“What messenger?” Maysun asked him.
“This is not your concern, woman,” the head eunuch said.
“Do not be so pompous, Diya al Din,” Shahdi told him. “If it has to do with our husband, then it is most certainly our concern.”
“I do not know what the missive he carries says, but he wears the badge of our great lord and master, Sultan Mehmet,” the head eunuch responded. “The sultan is old. Who knows what it is about, but until the prince comes we must wait for answers, and pray there are no Janissaries behind this messenger.”
“Better we pray the sultan’s gardeners are not behind the messenger,” Maysun said nervously.
“Allah forfend!” Shahdi cried, frightened, for she knew, as did everyone, that the men who so lovingly tended the sultan’s gardens were also his personal executioners.
“There is no need to fret,” Diya al Din said, with more conviction than he felt.
“Where is this messenger?” Maysun asked.
“I have put him in the prince’s antechamber,” Diya al Din told her.
“There is a spy hole into that chamber,” Shahdi murmured. She caught Maysun’s hand. “Let us go now so we may watch and listen.”
