Roxelana & Suleyman

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Haseki spent the earliest part of the morning in the waters of the hamam. The coolness of the stone arcade surrounding the heated central portion gave her deep delight as she listened to the echoing conversations of the girls around her. Presently, Khadija, who rejoiced at Haseki’s new name, joined her. They soaked and talked, before stepping out of the pool and walking over to the central marble slab. There they lay face to face while two female Moors rubbed their bodies with fragrant oils and massaged every inch of flesh. They sipped on vessels of melted snow from the Carpathians, flavored with crushed tulip petals.

After a luncheon of baked breads and exotic fruits, Khadija led Haseki to the rooms off the top balcony. Here the ancient women gave lessons to the maids that they may, if they wished, learn to speak and write in the royal tongues. There was also much tutelage in the finest methods of embroidery and sewing as well as the intricacies of history, mathematics and geography. Two of the old women gave lessons in singing and diverse instruments. Haseki was keen to refine her singing and also to learn Turkish and Persian, that she may be able to read the thousands of books and manuscripts that lined the shelves of the upper rooms.

And so the days and the weeks continued.

She could want for nothing more.

The gathering of knowledge satiated and overcame any other need that may have otherwise been deficient.

* * * *

Sitting on a wooden stool on the highest balcony, Haseki enjoyed the view of birds playing in the top branches of the beech as she embroidered one of her vests. She hummed to herself and exulted in the warmth of the sun. Hearing the soft plod of bare feet on the boards she looked up to see Hyacinth approaching.

“The sun is dim compared to your radiance, beautiful one.”

“Thank you.” She smiled—glad that her misconceptions of Hyacinth had dissolved. His disfigured face could no longer hide his valued beauty.

“The Birinci Kadin has requested your presence in her chambers.”

Haseki was taken aback, as she had not left the confines of the maids’ quarters since she had arrived two months earlier. Placing her unfinished needlepoint on the stool she rested her hand on Hyacinth’s forearm and let him take the lead.

At the far end of the balcony Hyacinth unlocked a wooden door with one of the many keys at his hip. He led Haseki through this and down an internal stone staircase. Entering the Birinci Kadin’s courtyard, she caught her breath at the beauty of its fountains and finely crafted trees—a deep contrast to the bareness of the court and chambers in which she had been confined. Tulips bloomed and several cats sat amongst their stems or on the sides of the fountains, peering into the rippling waters at fat, golden fish.

The arcade around the courtyard was of a white-veined, blue marble. Columns twisted up to skillfully chiseled capitals. The arches above, which supported a grand loggia, were faced with wonderful blue Izniki tiles decorated with flowing patterns of tulips and bluebirds.

Haseki was led up a spiraling marble stair to the loggia and there Hyacinth left her to ponder the beauty of the court.

Within seconds Khadija came out of a nearby door. She rushed to Haseki and gave her a joyful hug. Then, after momentarily holding her forefinger to her lips for silence, she kissed her on the mouth and ran down the spiraling staircase.

The door she had come out of was left ajar.

“Come in, my child.”

Haseki stepped into the dimly lit apartment and dropped to her knees in respect.

The room was elegantly appointed with vibrant rugs and gold-leafed furniture. The walls were covered in a mural of trees and dense foliage. A great stag peered from the painting. Graceful birds flew across an intensely blue hand-tinted sky.

The Birinci Kadin reclined on a divan behind a diaphanous blue gauze which rippled in the early summer breeze. Golden stars were embroidered randomly across the fabric. They shimmered in the flickering light of a single torch held high by a male Moor standing rigid in the corner.

“Come; sit at my side, Haseki.”

Haseki did as she was bid—the Moor attentive to her movement. Sitting on an embroidered cushion she strained to see the Birinci Kadin through the gauze, wondering—just wondering.

“Speak to me, child. What have you learnt in these past months?”

“I have learnt much, Birinci Kadin, but there is so very much more I desire to learn. I can write my name and many simple words in Turkish and Persian, and I am able to read a little of both. The Mother says that I am the finest she has taught on the lute and I receive much praise for my singing.”

“The Mother also states that you are adept at geography and algebra.”

“Yes, Birinci Kadin, though I do stumble on long division.”

“I am pleased with your advances, my child, for this knowledge, and your eagerness to learn, will put you in good stead for your future.”

The muscled Moor hunkered down on his buttocks, but still, silently, held the torch high.

“Very soon, my child, you will be given as a present to the greatest of Sultans to ever cast his shadow across the face of the Earth.”

“Sultan Selim, your husband?” whispered Haseki. The words seemed to echo around the room and through her heart—a feeling of emptiness.

“No. Sultan Suleyman Khan, my son.”

“But he is not the Sultan...” Haseki replied in sudden confusion.

“Silence!” the Birinci Kadin spat in anger, “Do not counter what I say!”

“Forgive me, my Birinci Kadin.” Haseki cowered only slightly on the plump cushion.

“Suleyman will be Sultan, and in very short order. Never underestimate the power of the Birinci Kadin. Now, return to your studies...”

Haseki kissed the ground at the Birinci Kadin’s feet and then shuffled backward toward the door. She left in silence; however, her mind was anything but.