“I know, I know,” Amir responded. “I am grateful he has even considered making provision for me, and I will obey. Have I not always done my duty by the sultan, Hadji Bey? I am his most loyal servant.”
“You have, my lord, you have,” the Agha replied. “And now that we have settled this matter, I would see your daughter so I may tell the sultan of her when I return.”
“Krikor,” the prince called to his faithful slave, who stood quietly on one side of the salon. “Tell Ali Farid that I wish the lady Azura to bring our daughter here so the Agha Kislar may see her.”
“At once, my lord!”
Several minutes later Azura came into the chamber carrying her child. She was dressed in a lavender silk kaftan trimmed in gold and silver threads. A sheer pale pink silk covered her dark hair, and she was veiled. The baby was dressed in a soft pink robe. She was rosy cheeked, her bright blue eyes looking around her. The young mother bowed to her husband, and to Hadji Bey.
“This is my third wife, Azura,” the prince said, “and our daughter, Atiya.”
Hadji Bey reached out to loosen the veil covering Azura’s face. His fingers, she noted, were long and elegant. He looked at her admiringly with the distinct eye of a connoisseur, then refastened the veil. “Her eyes are extraordinary,” he said. “She is beautiful enough for your uncle’s harem.” Then he fingered one of Atiya’s loose raven curls. “The child is a mixture of you both,” he noted. “She has your stubborn chin, my lord, but her mother’s sweet mouth. I shall tell the sultan that Atiya is a true Ottoman princess.”
“Return to the harem, beloved,” Amir murmured to Azura. “I will come later, and tell you everything that has happened this day.”
With a polite nod of her head, Azura left the men. There had been a third man in the salon. He wore the uniform of the Janissaries. He had taken a quick look when Hadji Bey had unveiled her, but then as quickly averted his eyes politely. She wondered who he was, but Amir would tell her later. Maysun and Shahdi were waiting excitedly for her.
“What does the great Hadji Bey want of our husband?” Maysun asked.
“I don’t know,” Azura replied. “He said he would come later and tell us.”
“They will remain the night,” Shahdi said. “It is much too late in the day now for them to return to Istanbul. Amir will entertain them.”
“With what?” Maysun demanded to know. “We have no dancing girls.”
“Food and drink, of course,” Shahdi responded. “They will talk, like all men do, and probably gamble together.”
“A poor welcome for the sultan’s Agha Kislar,” Maysun said. “If only we had known he was coming. I wonder why he did not send ahead.”
Azura handed Atiya off to Agata. “We can wonder all we want,” she said. “We will know nothing until Amir comes.”
He came long after the sun had set that day, but the three women waited, for a visit from the sultan’s Agha Kislar was a rare—indeed, an almost unheard-of—event. He looked tired, and he looked worried. They settled him comfortably in the single cushioned chair that was meant only for him, and seated themselves around him on low stools. Amir looked at them and sighed deeply. “We must leave the Moonlight Serai almost immediately,” he began, and the three women gasped in shock.
Amir held up his hand to stem the flow of their questions temporarily. Then he went on to tell them everything the Agha Kislar had told him. He told them what he believed with regard to the sultan’skadinBesma. Then he concluded, “We have no choice. To remain at the Moonlight Serai invites danger at the least, death more likely. I will not give the lives of my family merely to quell the madness of one woman’s ambition for her son. We must go, but at least my uncle has provided a safe haven for us.”
“But we have always lived here,” Maysun said.
“From the time your grandfather gave us to you,” Shahdi added.
“Where is El Dinut?” Azura wanted to know.
Amir smiled. His first two wives could not see beyond today. Azura, praise Allah, had wisdom. “El Dinut is on the Mediterranean Sea. It is a long journey from the Moonlight Serai,” he replied. “We will have to travel by ship.”
Azura nodded. “Will it take us as long as it took when you and I came from Venice?” she asked him.
“A little longer, beloved. El Dinut is nearer the Italian states and France,” he explained. “I want the women to go first, within the next few days.”
“Yes, Maysun and Shahdi must go first,” Azura agreed. “I want them to take Atiya with them.” She spoke as if the others were not even in the room. “I will remain to see that the household is packed up, and then come with you, my lord.”
“You must go with the others,” he told her.
“No,” Azura responded. “I will not leave until you leave. I did not give up my people to be without you, Amir.”
“Besma’s Tartars could come, and I would be slain,” he said.
“If that happens, if there is no hope, then I will die with you, my lord, but I will not leave you,” Azura replied quietly, adding, “Nor will I become slave to some Tartar.”
He wanted to argue with her, but he saw the determination in her beautiful eyes. Those wonderful eyes that had first attracted him to her. She was brave enough to stand by his side, and while his every instinct was to force her to go, he would not. “Very well,” he said. “We will depart together, but the others must go ahead of us with Atiya.”
