A Love for All Time (43 page)

The O’Malley brothers set about enjoying the vices of London with a good will. Although Adam and Conn had promised to chaperon them, neither man was much for whoring or drinking, and so they merely pointed the three brothers in the correct direction, and in some cases gave them entry into some of the city’s better brothels. Washed and barbered, Brian, Shane, and Shamus O’Malley were handsome, presentable men. The gold in their pockets made them even more welcome, and so Skye saw little of them during their stay in London.

Sir Robert Small, Skye’s business partner, had arrived from his home, Wren Court, in Devon. He had been away at sea the previous winter when Conn and Aidan had been married, but upon his return he had come to
Queen’s Malvern
to see his sister, and had met the bride. He had fully approved of Aidan, and he had said so in no uncertain terms much to the de Mariscos’ amusement. In stature he was a small man, his ginger-colored hair was fading, but his bright blue eyes were as sharp as they had ever been.

Looking up at Conn he had said, “Well, the queen has once more done well by ye, Conn, my lad. Yer pretty lass is, to my mind, too good for ye, but I can see she loves ye. Be good to her or ye’ll answer to me.”

Aidan had blushed becomingly, and Robbie’s sister, Dame Cecily, had said, “Everyone who has met Aidan has loved her, Robbie.”

Robbie was devastated by the news of what had happened to Aidan. Next to Skye he was the only one who understood the true seriousness of the problem facing them. Conn was beginning to, but as for his elder brothers, it would just be another rollicking adventure. “How the hell are we going to get her out of the sultan’s seraglio, Skye?” Robbie demanded one evening just before they sailed. They were seated about the table of Greenwood’s family dining room. “Once a woman is incarcerated there, it’s impossible to get her out. The Ottoman sultan doesn’t ransom slaves. Hell! All the women in his personal harem are captives! I’ve never heard of any woman once she entered the sultan’s harem getting out unless she is sent as a gift to someone the sultan wants to honor, or unless she dies.”

“There has to be a way, Robbie,” said Conn. “If Aidan lives to reach Istanbul we have got to find a way to rescue her, and my child.”

Robert Small pursed his lips, and his brow furrowed in honest thought. Finally he said, “Well, if there’s a way, my lad, I cannot for the life of me think of it now, but before we get to Istanbul we had better know.”

“Ye’ll need a source of ready credit at yer disposal,” said Adam.

“Our bankers here in London are a family of Jews called Kira. They have people, usually their family members, in almost every important city in Europe. I am certain they must have someone in Istanbul who can aid us,” said Skye. “I will send for them to come to Greenwood, and we will talk to them.”

A footman was dispatched almost immediately to the city, and to the surprise of everyone Master Eli Kira returned with him that evening. He was a tall spare man with gray locks and serious dark eyes that nonetheless could twinkle with humor on occasion. He was dressed in a long, furtrimmed gown of black velvet. Upon his head was a flat velvet cap which was generally worn by all professional city gentlemen, and about his neck was a heavy gold chain of the finest workmanship.

“Having seen the ships docked by yer warehouses being prepared for a voyage,” he said, “I had to assume that ye needed to see me before they departed, and I leave myself for France in another day. My brother died in Paris last week, and I must go there to decide which of his twin sons is the more capable of running our business. How may I serve ye, madame?”

“My brother must go to Istanbul, Master Kira, and we need to know if there are any of yer family there from whom we may obtain credit based on our deposits with ye here in London.”

“Istanbul? Istanbul, madame, is the center of my family’s banking business. Our great-uncle had a small business there many years ago, but it is actually thanks to my aunt, Esther, that our family’s business has thrived, and is one of the most important banking houses in the world today. Esther Kira, blessed be her name, still rules the family in Istanbul in this, her eighty-eighth year! Of course, it is her son, Solomon, who is known as the head of the family, but it is really my aunt who controls all. If ye go to Istanbul we can most assuredly be of service to ye.”

Skye was curious. “How is it,” she asked Eli Kira, “that yer aunt is such a woman of power and means?”

“Aunt Esther and her brother, my father, Joseph, blessed be his memory, were orphaned at an early age. They were raised by an uncle in Istanbul, but as her own father had been a poor younger brother, she had no dowry, and so at the age of twelve she was selling hard-to-find goods to the harem ladies of the rich. She was so successful that her reputation spread, and at the age of sixteen she was allowed entry into the imperial harem. At twenty she met and became close friend of the favorite wife of Sultan Selim, whose son, Suleiman, was to be the next sultan. That lady was the great Cyra Hafise, and her friendship brought incredible fortune to my family. Within the Ottoman Empire we are exempted from paying taxes because of a secret service my aunt rendered to the sultan’s family. My aunt named her eldest son, Solomon, after the eldest son of Cyra Hafise, the great ruler, Suleiman the Magnificent. For many years my aunt has not needed to ply her trade among the ladies of the imperial harem, but yet she still does so for I suspect she would be bored sitting in the courtyard of her house telling tales to her great-grandchildren. As she was the friend of the lady Cyra Hafise, so was she friend to Suleiman’s favorite, the lady Khurrem and to the favorite of Sultan Selim II, Nur-U-Banu, and to Safiye, who is favorite of the current sultan, Murad III.”

Conn felt a prickle of excitement run up his spine. “Then,” he said, “perhaps yer aunt will be able to aid me in a rather delicate problem that faces me when I reach Istanbul.”

“Conn,” warned Skye nervously. “I do not know if it is wise to burden Master Kira with our problems.”

“If I’m to have the help of his aunt I’m going to have to confide in him,” said Conn.

“No, my lord,” said Eli Kira, “yer sister is correct. Do not confide in me. Since I am not going to be in Istanbul, it is not necessary that I know yer problems there. I will send along with yer letter of credit a letter to my aunt saying that ye can be trusted, and that the family should aid ye if they can without endangering themselves. It is better that I know nothing of yer business. If it is a dangerous business then the fewer people who know the better off ye will be.”

The matter settled, Eli Kira took his leave of them. He would see that the necessary information and documents be dispatched first thing in the morning. There would be three messengers sent. The first would be a pigeon who would make its way to Paris where its message would be removed, and affixed to another bird who would continue on to the next destination where here it, too, would be replaced by yet another bird and another until the last bird reached Istanbul. The other two messengers would be human. Both would begin their journey by sea, but only the man traveling the southern route through the Mediterranean would go all the way by ship. The other man would go only as far as Hamburg by sea, and from there on he would continue on by horse down through the German states, and into the Ottoman Empire’s northernmost reaches and from there on to Istanbul. It was very likely that all three of Eli Kira’s messengers would arrive safely in their own time in Istanbul, but three were nonetheless dispatched for safety’s sake. There would be no doubt of who Conn O’Malley was when he reached the capital of the Ottoman Empire. The Kiras were totally reliable.

They hadn’t seen the three older O’Malley brothers in several days’ time, but three days later when they sailed from the pool of London Brian, and Shane, and Shamus were each aboard their own ship as were their loyal crews. It was true that most on that first day were quite the worse for wear, but they were there, and from experience Conn knew that he would rather sail with O’Malley-trained and dependable crews than with any other sailors alive.

Conn had bid his sister and her husband farewell at Greenwood. There had been tears in Skye’s blue-green eyes as she had kissed him. He brushed her tears away with his own hand, and said with a wry grin,

“The only danger I’m going to be in, Skye, is from seasickness.”

She laughed softly. “Ye were always the worst sailor of us all, and ye a son of Dubhdara O’Malley!”

“The old man’s seed was obviously running weak when I was conceived, Skye. I received all the charm God forgot to give my brothers, but a weak stomach in return.”

“Take no chances, Conn. Yer no good to Aidan dead, and I know that she is alive. I feel it! Be sure ye give my message to Osman, and tell him I am sorry that I could not come myself, but that I am trying not to struggle against my fate. He will understand.” She hugged him hard, kissed him on both cheeks, and said, “Godspeed, my brother, and the Blessed Mother bring ye home with Aidan quickly.”

“Don’t worry, Skye,” he promised her, “I shall return, and with Aidan, I promise ye. It won’t be like Niall for I know that is what troubles ye.” Hugging her hard he then turned to his brother-in-law, and the two men clasped hands.

“She’s said it all,” Adam said with a smile, “but then she usually does. Godspeed, lad! Ye’ll both be back to us soon, I know it!”

The Greenwood coach took him to the London pool where he was rowed out to Robbie’s ship, which was a fairly new vessel that the Devon captain had taken on a shakedown cruise just this winter past. The vessel was called the
Bon Adventure
, and Robbie was full of praise for her speed and maneuverability. Conn would be sharing the captain’s quarters on their voyage out with Robbie.

Looking about the spacious cabin Cluny smiled satisfied. “Aye, we’ll be comfortable here, m’lord, and ’tis good to feel a deck beneath me feet once again.”

Conn said nothing. His stomach seemed to be coping so far, but it did no good to tempt fate. He could feel the motion of the ship as it edged its way among the moored vessels, and swung out into the Thames. “I think I’ll go on deck, Cluny,” he said. He didn’t see Cluny’s grin for Cluny knew of the O’Malley shame as Conn’s stomach had always been referred to by the people of Innisfana Island. Outside he still felt well with the smell of the river in his nostrils, and secretly hoped that he had really outgrown his embarrassing malaise.

The day was sunny and cool although there was nothing of the autumn to come. A light breeze filled the sails, and the ship moved with a slow and stately gait down the Thames toward the open sea. They passed by the Strand and there upon the lush green lawns of Greenwood stood his sister, her husband, and the entire staff waving their final good-byes, and calling Godspeeds and Good Fortune to him and to his fleet of four ships. He waved back to them, his eyes wet with emotion, and he stood watching them until he could no longer see them for the river curved, and they were suddenly gone.

A little farther on they passed Greenwich, empty now and silent with the court’s absence. It was the queen’s favorite place, and he understood why as he viewed it from his vantage aboard ship. He felt a small tightness in his chest remembering that it was here that he had first seen Aidan. It was here that they had been wed, and it was from here that they had departed on their journey home to Aidan’s much-loved
Pearroc Royal.
He wanted his beloved wife! He wanted her back safely again, and he was going to find her no matter what stood in his path. Had he not once told her that theirs was a love for all time? He prayed that she would hold onto that thought wherever she was.

The landscape ahead was flat and he could see Southend on his left. Beyond that Conn knew was Margate, and then that arm of the open sea called the English Channel.
Bon Adventure
swept out of the Thames with the grace of a dancing maiden and feeling the familiar roll of the seaborne vessel, Conn’s heart hammered with the certain knowledge that the greatest adventure he was ever likely to have had finally begun.

T
he warm autumn air caressed her cheek as the ship carrying Aidan to Istanbul neared the great city of Constantine. Although the vessel upon which she traveled had stopped several times to take on fresh water as it had woven itself through the Greek isles, she had not been allowed the privilege of going ashore, and walking about for she was considered too valuable a piece of property to lose to bandits. It had been many weeks since she had put her foot upon firm land, and she was anxious to do so again. Not that her trip had been an uncomfortable one for it hadn’t. Indeed everything had been done to ensure her comfort. Still in her entire lifetime she had never felt so confined.

Her every move had been monitored since her purchase by the dey. Her boundaries had been limited in Algiers, and they had certainly been curbed even more aboard this ship which had been her prison since she left Algiers. She had been at the dey’s palace for a full week before she had been taken in a closed litter back to the harbor, and put aboard this vessel. Shortly after dawn on her second day in Algiers the door to her room had opened suddenly as she sat up startled, and Meg had reentered the room.