Roxelana & Suleyman

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER TEN

They entered a long, dull room. The wooden ceiling was low enough that Hyacinth had to bend down so that the tall white turban he wore would not brush against it. Along both edges, for the full length of the room, were sleeping platforms. Old women tidied mattresses and bed linen, which lay haphazardly across the divans. They took no notice of the arrivals, but instead continued shoving at wayward mattresses and fluffing limp pillows and cushions. To one side of the dormitory an unlatched door led into the arcaded surround of an unassuming courtyard. Paved in a dirty-white stone, the yard was bare except for a large beech tree to one side, and several uncomfortable-looking, stone benches. The wooden arcade around the court seemed to be a relatively recent addition or, at the very least, an afterthought never intended by the building’s original architects. Stepping out into the open, Aleksandra realized that there were two levels of wooden balconies above. She thought the court similar to the Southern Han in which she was auctioned—though nowhere near as grand. Indeed, the woodwork had a smell of decay and neglect about it.

The sound of laughter and giggling came from rooms on the far side of the court.

“The beautiful ones are all in the hamam at this time.”

“Hamam?” queried Aleksandra with some reticence.

Hyacinth searched for the word. “Ummm, bath, yes bath. They are bathing.”

Aleksandra couldn’t remember the last time she had taken a bath. Since being captured she had only attended to her toilette with a basin and ewer, or at the very least a bucket of ice-cold water from the brook at the Tartar encampment. Even though she had doused herself with fragrance before disembarking from the boat that morning, she knew that she must smell horribly after weeks of travel by wagon and fishing vessel. The dress she wore, though very fine, was sticking to her skin.

Hyacinth led her through a tiled arch and passageway toward the joviality.

There were about twenty girls in the first room of the hamam. All were in various stages of undress—some completely n***d as they sipped on goblets of a rose-scented beverage. Aleksandra blushed, that Hyacinth, a man, should be witness to this scene. He cast his gaze around the room, as though looking for someone. Aleksandra could detect no hint of l**t or wantonness in his demeanor. Indeed, she was perplexed that he showed little emotion at all.

He pulled her into the steaming warmth of the second room of the hamam. The domed area had a large marble slab at its center. Several women lay on the stone, n***d. Young female Moors, kneeling at their sides, massaged fragrant oils into their skin. Around the edge of this space, behind a screen of columns topped by high-peaked arches there were several pools sunken into the marble floor. A dozen or more women sat in these—idly scrubbing and massaging each other, talking in whispers that echoed around the room.

Hyacinth motioned for one of the pools’ occupants to come to him.

The woman lifted herself up out of the water and stepped delicately from the darkened recess of the pool into the torch-lit central domed area. She took no heed of her own nakedness as the flickering light made the droplets of water on her breasts sparkle like diamonds. Giving Hyacinth an impish smile, she turned to Aleksandra and greeted her warmly.

“Welcome, my name is Khadija.”

Aleksandra looked down at the young woman’s nudity and then up at Hyacinth—again she could feel her face blush, even in the heat of the hamam.

Khadija laughed. “Do not mind Hyacinth, my darling. He is as sweet and good tempered as a lamb.”

“But it is not proper for a man to see....”

Again Khadija chuckled. “He is not a man, lovely one.” Wickedly, she patted Hyacinth on the groin. The giant pulled himself up to his full height, pushing his voluminous chest out and feigning distain, but this was quickly followed by a smile, which Aleksandra took as genuine fondness and respect for the woman before them. Aleksandra found herself staring at Hyacinth’s groin with a degree of incomprehension. His baggy pants, below the open caftan, had taken on a transparency as he sweated in the heat of the hamam, the finely woven cloth sticking firmly to his enormous legs. Where Khadija had patted him, the ebony of his skin and pubic hair shone through—but that was all. Aleksandra fought back swirling emotions of confusion and revulsion. Bile filled her mouth and she thought she would vomit.

Hyacinth seemed to sense her distress and, bowing to the two beauties, left their presence.

Khadija led Aleksandra back to the first room. Seating her on a tiled bench she held a cup of sweet-tasting sherbet to her lips. Several of the girls came up to greet them, but Khadija motioned for them to be left alone.

Aleksandra arched her eyebrows questioningly, still deep in her thoughts of Hyacinth.

“It is the way things are here, my darling. Hyacinth and all the male Moors that guard us are eunuchs. They have never known the feeling of their own flesh gripped firmly in their hands, or within the sweet confines of a woman. They are tender and they are pure—not soiled by the carnal thoughts that consume normal men who have retained their endowment. Indeed, they are the only men in this world you will ever be able to truly trust.”

Aleksandra contemplated Hyacinth for a moment, then pushed the thought aside. This was something she could not possibly come to terms with. She sipped at the cooling sherbet.

“You will come to understand it, my darling, and will know that it is the way that it must be.”

Some of the other girls dared come and introduce themselves. Hafisa and Baykhan were the most vocal, though not so much as Khadija, who held court with her hands firmly on the reins of the conversation. They all seemed pleasant enough and not in the least bit unhappy in this place.

“My darling, your clothes....” Hafisa and Baykhan helped Aleksandra out of the heavily layered dress that she had put on the previous month. Voluminous petticoats were dashed to the floor. Hafisa sniffed at the emerald-green fabric, wrinkled her nose, and giggled. Aleksandra giggled too, embarrassed. Khadija squeezed her hand, giving an understanding nod. Baykhan held the fabric up to her nose and, placing the back of her hand on her forehead, pretended to swoon. All of the girls laughed. And so did Aleksandra.

It felt good to laugh.

It also felt good to be n***d in the cooling dim of the hamam. Though she was wary that Hyacinth might return, Aleksandra was comfortable with the girls. They lead her back into the second room and stepped down into one of the recessed pools. The water was luxurious on her skin as she sunk into it—her inadvertent sigh echoing around the circular colonnade and toward the ceiling above. Silvered tiles, scattered across the blue-domed expanse, twinkled like stars in the torchlight.