The Aviary Gate (27 page)

‘No, my Sultan.'

‘You dare say no to your Sultan?' And to Celia's astonishment he laughed again, as though delighted by her reply. With an impatient movement he dashed the robe from his shoulders. ‘Well, we'll see about that.' He made as if to move towards her, but she drew back from him as before. He lunged, and as she twisted away from him he caught her ankle and jerked her roughly back towards him.

‘Not so fast.' She heard him grunt with the effort. The sound of a big man. A wild pig after a truffle.

She watched as he turned Hanza over on to her back, pinning one arm down over her head. She struggled, lashed out at him with her other hand, scratching at his face with her nails before he caught and held her other arm. Trapped, she arched her white neck away from him and then lay perfectly still. Both of them were panting now, and as he bent to graze on her face Celia saw him pause, his face hovering over her neck and mouth, as if breathing in her perfume once more, and the secret juices that had dried there.

‘Have they given you something?'

She shook her head.

‘Have they?' Celia watched as he traced a finger over her throat. Hanza did not reply, but instead reached up suddenly and licked his mouth with her tongue.

He laughed again softly. ‘You are ready for me then?' His voice was low. ‘It won't hurt … not much.'

‘No …' With a last display of reluctance, Hanza pulled feebly at her arm, trying to get it away from him, but he was too strong for her. She rolled back towards him with a sigh.

Celia braced herself, felt her stomach curdle at the thought of what was to come.

‘So, shall I take her instead?' He nodded towards Celia who was still kneeling at the foot of the bed.

‘No, my Sultan.' She shook her head again. Was it a sob or a smile that Celia could hear in her voice? ‘Take me,' she said.

Then she took his hand and drew it between her legs, guiding his fingers towards her sex, where he stroked her, making her gasp and squirm.

With a grunt, he entered her. It was over very quickly. Celia heard Hanza cry out, and only a few moments later the Sultan climbed off her.

He put his robe on.

‘Wait here,' he told them both, ‘the eunuchs will escort you back shortly.' He patted Hanza almost absently on the shoulder. ‘You have pleased me, little Hanza; the Aga will write you in the book.'

Then, without a backward glance, he was gone.

Celia was still kneeling at the bottom of the bed. For a moment there was complete silence. Then Hanza turned to her. ‘Well, aren't
you going to congratulate me?' She hugged her knees to her chest. ‘You must call me
kadin
now.'

‘My congratulations, Hanza Kadin.' There was a pause and then Celia added slowly. ‘Have you no shame at all?'

‘Shame? Why should I?' By the light of the guttering candles the girl's eyes were huge. All of a sudden she seemed very young, a small pale child in the middle of the vast bed. ‘He chose
me
. You'll never be the Haseki now.'

‘The Sultan can have many favourites, but he only ever has one Haseki – and that position, as you know, is already taken.' Celia spoke carefully, as if she were explaining to a child.

Hanza flashed one of her thin, feral smiles. ‘Not for much longer.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘You'll find out soon enough.'

She scrambled out of the bed, and walked over to where a plate of small honeyed pastries had been left. She seemed quite unconcerned about her nakedness. ‘Aren't you hungry now?' She crammed a pastry in her mouth, licked the sugary syrup from her lips. ‘They call these ones Ladies' Nipples,' she giggled. ‘Here, have one.'

Celia ignored her. ‘Who taught you?'

‘Taught me?'

‘To do all that … to please the Sultan in that way.'

‘I told you, I've watched.' Hanza licked her fingers.

‘I don't believe you. Nobody learns all that just by watching.'

‘You mean all that ooh and ahh.' Giggling, Hanza parodied herself. She was spinning around the room now, on the tips of her toes, intoxicated by her experience. ‘All right then, I'll tell you, Kaya Kadin,' she said to Celia over her shoulder. ‘It was the slave mistress in Ragusa.'

‘Ragusa?'

‘Yes. Why sound surprised? The Valide likes people from Ragusa.'

Celia gazed across at her in silence.

‘With a little help from Cariye Lala, of course.' Hanza stopped her spinning and took another sweetmeat. Two spots of colour had appeared on her pallid cheeks. ‘Oh yes, Lala will be the first one I'll reward when I'm Haseki.'

Celia felt very weary suddenly. ‘So that's what she's been telling you, is it?'

‘Cariye Lala didn't tell me anything. She just gave me the medicine, same as she did you,' she giggled. ‘The “itch”, she called my one—'

‘I don't mean her,' Celia interrupted. ‘I mean the Valide. Is that what the Valide's been telling you? That you could be the next Haseki?'

‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

‘I think you do …' Celia started to say, then a thought occurred to her. ‘The eunuchs will be here in a moment to take us back. Did they tell you what to do? About the blood, I mean.'

‘Blood?'

‘Yes, blood. You know – after your first time with the … surely there must be blood? You must show it to them. Didn't Hassan Aga tell you? Oh, but he's not here is he?' Celia put her hand to her mouth. ‘Don't tell me they forgot?'

There was an uncomfortable silence.

‘Blood?' Hanza repeated in a small voice.

Another silence.

‘There is no blood, is there?'

‘No.'

The girl's manner, so full of feverish energy a moment ago, suddenly changed. ‘What shall I do,
kadin?
' She sat down, a poor skinny sparrow on the edge of the bed, and looked at Celia. ‘What will they do to me? Help me,
kadin
,' she fell to her knees, ‘please!'

Celia thought quickly. ‘Hurry, find me a cloth.' Amongst the coverlets she seized upon a piece of embroidered linen, Hanza's discarded napkin. ‘Now you must cut yourself somewhere. With this – look.'

On the floor next to the bed where he had left it was the Sultan's belt. Attached to it was a dagger. Its curved sheath was made from beaten gold inlaid with brilliants, the handle fashioned from three solid emeralds. Celia drew the blade; felt the tip carefully. Although the dagger was a ceremonial one, it seemed sharp enough to do the job.

‘Here,' she held it out to the girl, ‘use this.'

But Hanza shrank from her. ‘No, I can't.'

‘You must,' Celia urged her. ‘Quick now, we haven't much time.'

‘I can't.'

‘Don't be a fool.'

‘Please,' Hanza looked at Celia in terror, ‘you do it.'

‘
Me
?'

‘Yes, don't you see?' She was crying now. I can't hide a cut. They'll find it on me. They'll know what I did.' There was a sound of movement outside the door, footsteps. ‘Please – I'll never forget that you helped me, never. I promise.'

There was no time to think. Celia took the dagger and placed the blade over her wrist.

‘No, not there. Under your arm,' Hanza urged her. ‘Where it won't show so much.'

Celia lifted her arm and positioned the blade again. Then she paused.

‘Why should I, Hanza? Give me one good reason: why should I protect you?'

‘Please – I'll never forget you helped me, never, I promise.' The whites of Hanza's eyes rolled in terror. ‘You don't understand. They'll cut off my hands and feet – they'll gouge out my eyes – they'll put me in a sack and drown me in the Bosphorous …'

‘Yes, they will, won't they?' Thoughtfully, Celia tested the point of the dagger against her finger. But why should she help Hanza? Had the experience of the last few days taught her nothing? Hanza would stab her in the back at the first opportunity, that much was crystal clear.

Sensing her hesitation, Hanza made as if to snatch the dagger away, but Celia was too quick for her. She held the dagger up, just out of reach.

‘Give it to me!' Hanza let out a sob. ‘I'll tell you about the opium …'

‘Not good enough.' The eunuchs were at the door now. ‘Like you said, I think I can work that one out for myself …' but before she could finish the sentence, Hanza blurted something out that made Celia stop short.

‘What did you say?'

‘The Aviary Gate. I said I'll get you the key to the Aviary Gate.'

Their eyes met as if for the first time. No time for questions. Celia could hear a roaring sound, the sound of blood drumming in her ears.

‘Promise?'

Beads of sweat stood out on Hanza's brow. ‘On my life.'

In the pause that followed there was a creaking sound as the doors to the Sultan's chamber swung open. Quickly Celia made a cut. The girl held out the napkin, and together they watched as three drops of blood fell on to the white linen.

‘I still can't believe that you knew they were here.'

‘Yes.'

‘All along, you knew! That after all this time the English embassy is still here!'

‘Am I imagining it, or have we had this conversation before? I've said I'm sorry.'

Annetta lay on her bed, a mattress rolled out on to the floor, in the dormitory she shared with twelve other
kislar
. Although she sounded more like her old self, she still looked pale, and made no attempt to sit up.

Celia knelt down on the hard wooden floorboards beside her.

‘But not only did you know that an English ship had arrived here, with the Levant Company's gift for the Sultan, but that they had sent some sort of replica of it – made of sugar, they tell me – right here, to the palace.' So as not to arouse the curiosity of the servants who were waiting for her in the corridor outside, Celia kept her voice low. ‘And that they are now saying that this same sugar ship is what poisoned Hassan Aga.'

‘Why are you still tormenting me about this?' Annetta said weakly.

‘I tried to tell you. Several times, I thought of telling you, really I did.

I just thought it was better if—'

‘Better if I didn't know?'

‘Yes, you numbskull! Much better if you didn't know,' Annetta hissed out the words, ‘look at you now.'

‘But now I do know.' Celia sat back on her heels. ‘You know what this means, don't you?'

‘Don't say it.'

‘It means Paul might be here.'

‘Don't even think it!'

‘But I do think it.' Celia, hiding her face in her hands, did not see the look of pity on Annetta's face. ‘How can I help it? Day and night, waking and sleeping, everywhere I go he's there, at my shoulder, in my dreams.' She pressed her fingers to her eyes, feeling their cool tips against her hot lids. ‘You say that I torment you – but I tell you, Annetta,
I
am the one who is tormented.' Celia pressed her hand to her side, the pain had returned, tenfold. ‘Only yesterday you asked me: ‘Does he know you're dead?' And I laughed, because it seemed such a strange thing to say – but now, now all I can think is: I have to find a way to tell him that I'm not dead. I'm here. I'm alive. Somehow, Annetta, I must—'

‘I know what you're thinking.'

Celia shook her head. ‘No you don't.'

‘You're thinking that if only he knew you were here he'd come for you.'

At first Celia did not answer her. Her gaze flickered nervously towards the door. Then she began, speaking very rapidly, ‘Actually, Annetta, I think there might be a way—'

‘No!' Annetta interrupted furiously. ‘I'm not listening to this.' She put her fingers in her ears. ‘D'you want to get us both drowned?'

‘If I could just
see
him, Annetta.' Celia looked up, her face piteous. ‘That's all I ask. My father's dead, I'll never see him again. But if I could just see Paul, just one more time, I could bear this. I could bear anything.'

She looked around the room that she had once shared with Annetta, a windowless second-storey chamber in the newest part of the harem overlooking the bathhouse courtyard. Although it was bare of furniture, with only painted cupboards at either end in which the girls' mattresses and coverlets were stored during the day, the room gave off the clean smell of freshly sawn wood.

‘And you'd better prepare yourself,' she sighed. ‘I don't expect it will be too long before I'm back in here with you.'

‘Poor Celia.' Annetta lay back on her cushions. She looked very pale.

‘Oh, don't feel sorry for me. Believe me, I'd much rather be back here with you. I am too watched, too waited on – you've no idea what it's like.' Celia put her hand to her throat. ‘It's as though they suck away all the air from me. Even when I wanted to come and visit you here, they sent three serving women with me.' She glanced round again. From the corridor outside came the sound of her women's voices drifting together. ‘I'm never alone. Everything I do – the smallest thing – is reported to the Valide,' she whispered, pressing her hand to her side. ‘They're spying on me – even now.'

Annetta frowned. ‘Why do you think that? Who's spying on you?'

‘The Valide's spies. The Haseki told me. She called them the Nightingales.'

‘The Nightingales? What nonsense – she's just trying to frighten you, that's all.' Annetta put her hand weakly on Celia's arm. ‘What's she done to you? You were never like this before she got her hands on you.'

‘No, no,' Celia shook her head, making her earrings shake. ‘You must understand. She was trying to help me.' She blinked her eyes rapidly several times. ‘If you really want to know, the person who really scares me is Hanza.'