Lost Love Found (54 page)

“They would punish you because of my actions?” Valentina said disbelievingly. The three girls nodded earnestly. The more Valentina knew of the East, the less she liked it.

“You must understand, Naksh,” said the usually quiet Sah. “We are only slaves.”

“I am not a slave!” Valentina exploded.

“You
are
a slave, as we are,” Gülfem said patiently. “The only difference between us is that you are now favored in our master’s eyes.”

Valentina felt the anger boiling in her once again, but she fought it back. Gülfem and her companions could not help being what they were, nor had they kidnapped her. Indeed, they were striving to make her comfortable, and it would be less than gracious if she caused them further difficulties. “Very well,” she agreed, “you may bathe me.”

With twittering little cries, they bustled about with soaps and sponges. Valentina endured their busy ministrations. Even their nudity was becoming slightly more bearable. She needed a good night’s rest. It had been a frightening day. On the morrow, she would explore the island and assess the various means of escape. Still, she was outraged by this kidnapping.

“Come, come!” Hazade beckoned to her. “You must be massaged with rose cream if your skin is to be kept like silk.”

“Your master will have no pleasure from me,” Valentina muttered beneath her breath, but they did not hear. She was shocked, a moment later, to find that the eunuch, Shakir, was to massage her.

He looked at her mockingly, daring her to protest, his dark eyes reading her very thoughts. “Lie on your belly,” he commanded, and without a word, she obeyed. She must not, she knew, waste her strength in fighting hopeless battles.

His hands on her back and shoulders was tolerable, but when Shakir began to knead her buttocks strongly, Valentina swallowed back her nervousness. His touch was impersonal, however, and she relaxed. The three young women sat cross-legged on cushions, playing softly on musical instruments and singing in high, little voices about a garden of love. The eunuch’s hands moved down her legs and finally her feet. Then he ordered her to lie on her back and his hands began the return voyage up her body.

It was difficult, on her back, to hide her repugance from Shakir. Sternly, she forced a impassive expression and, closing her eyes, concentrated on her breathing. As his thumbs swirled over her Venus mont, she nearly cried out. But there was no lewdness in the eunuch’s touch. Massaging a woman was for him only one of many everyday tasks.

“You have beautiful breasts,” he remarked matter-of-factly as he began to massage them. “The master will be very pleased.”

She wanted to cry, but Valentina bravely held back her tears. Not since the camp of Temur Khan had she felt so humiliated.

Then it was over, and Shakir was ordering them to bed. All four young women were to sleep on the large bed. Gülfem, Hazade, and Säh placed Valentina in the center, then curled about her. Two eunuchs entered and put out the lamps, plunging the room into darkness. Though it was only a few hours since she had awakened from her drug-induced state, Valentina found herself quickly falling asleep.

In the morning, her intention to explore the island for a means of escape was thwarted. Shakir would not allow any of them the freedom of the gardens. The master, he pompously announced, was not yet ready to grant them that privilege. They were forced to remain indoors, where their day, and the two days that followed, were spent in the baths, on the massage table, eating, and talking. Valentina’s body seemed of paramount interest to her companions. They creamed it, oiled it, and caressed it until Valentina thought she would go mad.

When she protested their oversolicitious attention, the three airily brushed aside her complaints. The master, they patiently explained to her, as if dealing with a backward child, must not be disappointed in her after all the trouble he had endured in order to obtain her. It was like trying to reason with a trio of kittens, Valentina decided. She was bored with her companions, who, though sweet-natured, seemed to have no interest in life other than their master, his desires, his pleasures.

Valentina hated all of it, the nudity, the endless preparing of her body as though she was a bird to be dressed for roasting, and the rose odor of the lip balm they painted her lips with. Beneath the makeup and trappings she felt that she was no longer Valentina St. Michael, Lady Barrows. She was not anyone real.

A week passed. Two weeks. Shakir could see that Valentina was near to violence with her close confinement. Weary of dull conversation with Gülfem, Säh, and Hazade, she spent a good deal of time pacing the kiosk for exercise. This confused the others, who preferred being indolent.

“I am going into the city today,” Shakir announced one morning. “I shall attempt to obtain permission for you to walk in the gardens, Naksh, You are like a caged tigress and must, I see, have the freedom and fresh air of the outdoors. Do not attempt to bully my eunuchs in my absence. They will report your behavior to me, and I will punish you if you have disobeyed me. You are intelligent enough to understand that I mean what I say.” Then he left her.

The Island of a Thousand Flowers was no more than a tall rock in the Bosporus. It rose straight from the dark waters of the straits, and was inhabitable only at its top, where the Starlight Kiosk was set amid its gardens. Shakir hurried down the flight of stone steps cut into the side of the island to the stone quay at its foot. There a caïque awaited him, for he had signaled his master’s palace that morning for the vessel. The eunuch stepped into the boat and, seating himself, signaled the rowers.

It was not easy, he contemplated as they sped across the misty morning sea, to bear authority. Naksh was extremely difficult to manage, and he must tell the grand eunuch that. Still, he had acquitted himself quite well so far. The woman’s spirit was not broken, for he had been carefully instructed that such was not what their master wanted. She was, however, beginning to bend to their will, even if she was not yet aware of it. With a smile, he meditated on his possible elevation to the position of grand eunuch when the current holder of that title retired. He was, he suspected, that worthy’s choice for a successor.

The caïque bumped against the palace quay, and Shakir shook off his daydream. Then he leaped from the boat and hurried up the steps to the palace. He was as anxious to be away from the island as the women were, for the days were long and tedious. Still, the rewards for good service were not to be overlooked.

“Sit down, Shakir, sit down,” said Grand Eunuch Hammid in his high, fluting voice. Affably, he waved the younger man to a divan opposite his own. The grand eunuch was a coal-black man whose shortness of stature made his corpulence seem even greater than it was. He was dressed in flowing robes of emerald-green silk trimmed in dark sable. His cloth-of-gold turban bore a large diamond in its center.

“Thank you, my lord Hammid,” said Shakir, and seated himself. Pretty prepubescent slave girls passed dainty pastries, sticky-sweet Turkish-paste candies, little bowls of sugared almonds, and, finally, delicate cups of thick, boiling-hot Turkish coffee. Shakir helped himself to several chips of ice, which he dropped into his coffee, then gulped the bitter brew before it could scald his throat.

The grand eunuch watched him from beneath hooded lids. He was much amused by his subordinate, who was obviously anxious to make his report but dared not broach the subject until invited to do so. Patience was a virtue greatly to be admired and slow to cultivation, Hammid considered. He sipped his own coffee, prolonging the silence. Then suddenly his gaze focused on the younger man and he said sharply, “Make your report, Shakir!”

Shakir almost dropped his eggshell-thin porcelain cup, but recovered quickly and began, “The woman to be called Naksh is a very stubborn creature, my lord Hammid! Although she is gentle with her three companions, for she harbors no ill will toward them, she has a fierce temper that she exposes to the other servants. I have kept her indoors these past two weeks, for I feared that allowing her the gardens would encourage thoughts of escape. Nonetheless, she harbors such thoughts, I can tell. She is the sort of woman who might attempt suicide, not from despair but simply to escape what she considers an untenable situation. She is not a weak creature, given to depression or melancholy.”

“Have you been preparing her food exactly as I instructed you?” the grand eunuch demanded. “It is imperative that you be precise.”

“Yes, my lord Hammid, I have been most careful! I have added to each portion she eats the precise amount of herbs, spices, and aphrodisiacs you ordered. Moreover, her diet has been carefully planned. She is given only foods conducive to passion. But she is a very strong woman, able to resist us without even knowing she is resisting us.”

“Yes,” Hammid considered, “these English women are strong. I have dealt with them before and they are not easy. Their wills must be bent, but
never
broken. It is not a simple task. No. It is not simple,” he mused thoughtfully. “Still, I have done it before, and I can do it again. I must do it again! In two years, the master has shown no serious interest in his harem. Oh, he has indulged himself with his women, but he has not been the same since Incili. He, whose harem is legendary, has allowed that harem to practically die away. I have done my best to cull those who have grown too fat or too idle. I have replaced them with exquisite creatures like Gülfem, Hazade, and Säh, but to what purpose? He uses them merely to ease his bodily longings. He shows no real interest. I had begun to fear Incili had spoiled him for other women.

“This female is the first to intrigue him since Incili. He is in a fever to possess her, and it is not just her body he desires. He desires her love, her very soul!”

Shakir shrugged. “The woman is in his possession. He may have her at any time.”

“No, no, foolish one!” Hammid chided. “If all he desired of the woman was her body, he could certainly take her. It is her heart and soul he seeks, do you not understand the subtleties of that, Shakir? First she must be made to desire him. Then, when he has caught her in his web of lust, she will give him everything he wants of her.
Everything!
”

“Will he not become bored with her then?” Shakir asked.

“Possibly,” answered the grand eunuch, “but possibly not. Not if she is as clever as she is beautiful. It makes no real difference, however. What matters is that he is once again showing a serious interest in his harem. Remember that our power within this house comes from the harem. If it is of no importance to him, then we, my friend, are of no importance to him, either. Think on that, my dear Shakir.”

“It is a terrifying thought, my lord Hammid,” Shakir said with a delicate shudder. “Tell me what I may do to bring Naksh to a more amenable state of mind, for I cannot abide the thought of failure.”

“Return to the Island of a Thousand Flowers,” Hammid said. “Allow the women their freedom to walk in the gardens this afternoon. The fresh air and the exercise will do them good. Serve them supper before sunset and see that Naksh is given a double dose of my very special elixir in a fruit sherbet. The women are to bathe then, and Naksh particularly ministered to.

“The master will arrive on the island two hours after moonrise tonight. He will sport with the three, but not with Naksh. She is to watch. Under restraint, Shakir, for these women tend to be prudish at first about such matters.

“Make absolutely certain that she does watch, Shakir. It is most important to my plan that she be taunted by the master and his other women. If you have followed my instructions perfectly during these past two weeks, then Naksh has been pampered and cajoled in mind and body. I have never known a woman to resist quite so long as she, but it is, I think, because she was taken from her own people only recently. We must break her grip on her past, for the master grows more eager for her each day. She has become his obsession. I only hope the reality is as pleasurable as the anticipation.

“Tonight we begin our campaign, for indeed, Shakir, love is always a battle. This woman is no virgin, so she knows the delights of passion. She will observe the master tonight and she will be unable to help remembering the passion she has known. Soon, she will begin to long for the passions she once enjoyed. Her will, finally, will be bent to our purpose, and she will have no choice but to yield herself to our lord and master,” Hammid concluded.

Shakir threw himself at the grand eunuch’s feet. “You are so wise, my lord Hammid,” he said with genuine feeling.

A small smile of amusement passed over Hammid’s face. “And you are so painfully ambitious, Shakir,” he said in an indulgent tone, “but one day you will be competent to fill my slippers. First, however, you must learn, and when dealing with women, you will find there is always something new for you to know. They are unendingly inventive, for all their weakness. Now, get up and return to the island!”

Shakir scrambled to his feet. Bowing repeatedly, he backed from the salon of the grand eunuch. His heart was hammering excitedly, for it seemed the lord Hammid was pleased with him.

Hammid watched him go, smiling. Shakir was a most excellent pupil and would one day make a fine grand eunuch. Not like the puffed-up and stupid Osman who had allowed Incili to escape from the Island of a Thousand Flowers several years ago. It was fortunate that Osman had been killed then. Hammid could have killed him himself with his bare hands. His master believed Incili dead, else they all would have lost their heads. This time there would be no mistakes. The master wanted this woman and by Allah, he would have her! Have her as long as it pleased him to have her, though Hammid did not think his lord’s fascination would last as long as his fascination for Incili had lasted. Incili had been an extremely rare creature. Hammid did not believe Naksh had the ability to fascinate his master for a long time.

Now he must go and report Shakir’s visit to his master and instruct his master in the finer points of strategy for the battle to come. He arose from his divan with surprising agility for a man of his bulk and walked to the windows from where he could watch Shakir’s caïque skimming across the Bosporus to the island. Tonight there would be a new moon. Grand Eunuch Hammid considered that an excellent portent. Shakir would do his part and he would surely do it well. Their success was certain.