Interludes 29 Turkish Disclosures
I
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"Welcome in Baghdad, Geffraan Khan…" said Selim who, great honor indeed, had been at the Palace's entrance when d'Arcy and family had been ushered into the great entry hall.
Jane and Maureen where present while Betty and the children were following in another carriage not yet arrived at the Palace. Both d'Arcy wives were –in order to smooth up what could only be considered as an exotic behavior- wearing silk robes with an embroidered veil which covered their faces.
They had spoken lengthily and to d'Arcy's surprise, neither Jane nor Maureen had been reluctant to wear a veil. Betty, on the other side had been quite surprised at her mom's opinion.
"The veil is a cultural aspect I don't like but why should I go in there with the will to rub everybody's nose in their own contradictions? What's important is the way women are treated within a society not how they are clothed. Not every woman is beautiful and wearing a veil can be considered as a way to equalize the differences between those who were born lucky and those who must convince with their wit that they are worthy prizes." She had smiled at d'Arcy's pout. "I agree that the real reasons behind that custom have evolved to include other meanings indeed, but let's still consider it as a defense given to women to wear off men's lust. I'll wear it with that goal in mind. It seems that Selim has understood that the female part of mankind is not under brained and is giving more rights to women than ever before in any Muslim country, so it would be foolish to ask for him to give them even more on such a short notice. It will come with time when his womenfolk are better trained. But if I remember well the custom predates Islam and has only been taken in to satisfy the Arabs who were veiling their women for quite a long time before." Her smile softened while she looked Geoffrey in the eyes. "And we will do whatever is necessary to help you to blend in."
Geoffrey snapped out of his memories and nodded at his host.
"It is a great honor indeed to have you welcoming us in person" answered d'Arcy while bowing as low as it was custom for a stranger presenting himself before the Sultan. Kowtowing has never been in his nature and after all he wasn't one of the Sultan's underlings. As he had hoped his answer in the Turkish language was enough to pull Selim out of any qualms to lèse-majesté.
"I had no idea that you were speaking Turkish…" said the Sultan while greeting the newcomers with a smile and a little bow in the women's direction. "And I might add that you speak it rather well."
"We learned it in prevision of a lengthy stay" answered d'Arcy including his wives with a gesture. "It is always better to be able to understand what the people around you are saying. And I'm quite sure subordinates and servants prefer to be able to understand what their guest is asking them. It removes a degree of incertitude. And, believe my experience on that point, incertitude is even a worse thing when you are discussing important matters with foreign rulers."
Selim nodded and made a sign.
Immediately there were three men and two women at his side.
"Please follow my servants to your apartments; your luggage has already been transported there. I have you prepared one of the minor buildings where you will have the possibility to settle on your own. I hope you will enjoy the looks and the installations. They have been chosen with care to provide to you and your family a safe and enjoyable stay…" He looked at d'Arcy. "I'd like to have a private conversation with you as soon as possible, when do you think you could be ready to answer to my summon?"
"Airships are comfortable and safe, we have had a calm and enjoyable cruise, I won't need more than an hour to be presentable and be ready to meet you."
The Sultan looked over his shoulder toward a young man who was standing in the rear.
"Meet Abdullah, he's my private secretary and he is a real Baghdadi, he will come to get you at said hour. And if you need anything, please let him know, he's efficient and smart, he'll provide you with everything that's findable in the Palace and the town."
I
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"I really wouldn't have dreamt having you learn Turkish just for a short visit in Baghdad and Mecca…" said Selim while sipping at his very English tea cup.
"As said I like to understand what is said around me. And since I'm sure that I'm here for quite a lengthier period than just a visit to Baghdad and Mecca it will come handy. In my experience it is important to be able to understand what your underlings have to report without having to trust an interpreter whose loyalty can be bought by enemies."
"Enemies? Do you have enemies in my Empire?"
"I have enemies everywhere, your Majesty, as you know perfectly well. For now most of them believe me dead and I will do my utmost to let it stay that way for as long as possible. It will be easier for me while I'm here to serve you."
"Why should you serve me in any manner?" asked Selim while staying perfectly calm and controlled.
"Because I do believe that you invited me to make a proposition, and if said proposition is what I hope, I'll insist on having overall command. I won't do the adviser in the background thing. Not my style. Never was! I need my subordinates' trust and I need them to be able to read my intentions and my thoughts. I won't be held responsible for a military campaign where I'm not the one who controls everything."
"So you believe that this hypothetic proposition will be of a military nature?"
"Let's say that I hope that there will be such a proposition." He shrugged. "My brother agreed with me on that point and I would take it very badly to see him disappointed."
D'Arcy's face didn't stop smiling but his eyes became very serious. "Fitzwilliam and I we discussed lengthily the reason behind your invitation and the only conclusion we agreed on was that you were going to ask for my military experience. And I'm ready, with his sanction; to answer favorably to such a proposition should such one come my way." Geoffrey sipped his tea –a very good Indian brand- before looking in the Sultan's eyes.
"I don't know how you initially envisioned our encounter but, please, let it be known to your more zealous subordinates that my family is here with me as a show of my goodwill. I came here in good faith and with my brother in law's support that he would have no qualms about seeing me accepting certain propositions. Should we slip into any other –let's say more strenuous- style of negotiations, I'll have to do things I always regret."
"Are you threatening me?"
"Not in the least" answered d'Arcy while putting the tea cup back on the low table. "I'm not the threatening type! I'm the acting type. I don't believe it is a good idea to let your enemies know you're out to cut their throat. I've learned that the best moment to let foes know of a threat is when my dagger puts an end to their life. It avoids a lot of messy situations." D'Arcy looked at the half dozen guards who stood along the walls. "Do you care for your present guards?"
"Yes I do, they are my best. Why do you ask?"
"Because I wouldn't like to see emotions temper with what should only be a demonstration of what I'm able to do if I'm in the mood or the need to make a few more active assessments…"
Selim looked d'Arcy into the eyes.
"You really believe you could take them all out?"
"I could take out twice that number and it wouldn't take me more than ten seconds… Believe me when I say that four would be dead even before having their hands on their weapons. And the surviving pair would only live a pair of seconds more…"
"Your weapons were taken away…"
"My visible weapons were taken away…"
"You were searched by my best men…"
"Who found enough weapons to be satisfied with their job but I'm an assassin, your Majesty, I can kill you with the cup of tea you're holding in your hand!" He wriggled his fingers. "To be honest I can kill you with my bare hands, if push comes to shove."
"You believe my security arrangements are not effective enough?"
"Against a normal opponent they are probably sufficient to ensure your heir to have somebody on the scaffold to pay for your murder. Against a real experienced assassin they are laughable and against me…" his smile increased. "We could very well be alone in this room, it would probably be better because I wouldn't feel threatened like I'm now and, in the end, if I were here to kill you, it won't change a thing…"
"These men are not the only ones who cast an eye on me…"
"I agree. There are exactly four peepholes on the walls surrounding us" nodded d'Arcy while pointing at four places around the chamber. "None of those is currently used to aim a rifle at me which isn't a problem because even if it were they are too high to be of any real use. They are just used to survey the room. If I were to try to kill you you'd be dead before any of these attentive men could react. And in the time they would take to open the two hidden doors to get in I would have killed all the guards currently in this room. I already know that I'll use the secret door hidden behind the column on your left to strike at the incoming force. The column being very handy to protect my back from those soldiers coming through the door situated between the two alcoves at my left. Since the door is very narrow they won't have a choice but to come out one after the other. It will give me the opportunity to kill them one by one before using the secret passage to make my escape."
"What about your family? They are somewhere in my palace and should something happen to me they would have to pay the price, won't they?"
"That's another set of illusions, your Majesty. I doubt that you have already given orders about killing them if there is an alert within the Palace. And if they are not killed immediately they are safe till I'm there to protect them."
"You have great faith in your possibilities."
"I have great faith in my experience…"
"I could have you killed on the spot…"
"You could try but I doubt your men would succeed. And, by the way, if you kill me who's going to win the war for you? Currently you have an army that could win it if its leadership is up to the task. And if it isn't, you will just repel the invasion but you won't win the war. You'll lose thousands of men and waste humongous sums to, finally, reign over the exact same territories, with perhaps one or two Persian provinces added to your Empire…"
"You are the most arrogant man I ever have encountered."
"I'm also the most dangerous man you've ever encountered and I'm here only because Fitzwilliam and I believe that it is in our interest to give the Ottoman Empire another chance. I wouldn't have come with my family hadn't we judged that your efforts are worth to be supported…"
Selim's face paled for the first time since the beginning of the interview. Anger and frustration were, at last, visible.
It could be that I have to kill you after all… thought d'Arcy who was changing discreetly his stance.
"You really believe that I need you to support me?" growled Selim.
"Yes we do" said d'Arcy while choosing his first victim. "You've taken measures that will provide your people with means to become prosperous and well educated. But you know as well as we that a military success is necessary to smother your more reactionary forces. If your campaign is not as successful as it could, they'll turn against you and destroy everything you've built. With Russia ready to lash out on a weakened foe, the end of the Empire will be unavoidable. What we offer you is a way to make up for all lost territories with the additional benefit that all new conquered territories will be, at least partially, peopled by Muslims. We believe that a united House of the Faithful under the ruler ship of a man who has clearly grasped what the prospects are will give the world a better chance to have a peaceful future."
Geoffrey let out all superfluous tension. Now was the delicate moment. Now was the moment where everything was still possible.
Everything.
They looked at each other for a long time and d'Arcy was more than satisfied to finally see the tension disappear in Selim's shoulders. He had, indeed, a smart and intelligent man in front of him.
"What should I do to increase my security?"
"Don't trust anybody" answered d'Arcy. "And learn to avoid the first two strikes… Normally, if your men are good and still at life, there shouldn't be a third hit."
"Would you teach me?"
"Since I don't like changing my commander in chief too often, it will be my pleasure…"
l
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"He wasn't too difficult to convince, I suppose?" asked Kör Yussuf when they were finally able to meet in the secret of the Sultan's garden labyrinth. The alleys around them were guarded but by Kurdish warriors who had been chosen because of their martial skills and their inability to speak Turkish. And to be sure Yör and Selim spoke Old Aramean, a language only a few scholars, and them, were still able to understand.
"No, you were right, he knew and he came willingly to help. I even got an implied Treaty proposition coming from Great Britain."
"We were allies in the past…" said the Grand Vizier. "It wouldn't be a shock to see us approaching them. And it means that France agrees."
"You believe so?"
"I do, you Majesty. France and Great Britain are no longer countries whose links are woven in distrust and suspicions. Their rulers trust each other, they are not friends in the common sense of the word, they have built a link that ensures them that the other has the same vision of their future. So I'm quite sure that if Great Britain opens the door to negotiations it is with France's tacit agreement."
"What about Russia?"
"Alexandre's not yet playing in the same league and they probably haven't informed him. But he is maturing and with its country's growing prosperity he will understand that having a friendly and mighty Ottoman Empire at his Southern Borders is a good idea."
"We do renounce to Istanbul?"
"We took it away from the Christians and they got it back. That's the way Empires thrive and decay. It is perhaps time to remember that we came from the Fareast and that we were pushed out of our lands by the Ouighours."
"Who were pushed by the Chinese…"
"Who, as good Muslim brothers and benign rulers we will aid to get their land back…"
"You're ambitious, my friend, aren't you too ambitious?"
"I was there peeking at him while you spoke, Your Majesty. That man is, if you look at his credentials, fifty five years old. Did he look like fifty-five to you?"
"His eyes just showed that age and experience, Yör. His words could have been taken as braggadocio but I was looking at him. He really believed that he would be able to do what he said. It scared me. He was right that he's the most dangerous man I've ever met."
"I agree and have you observed how he is moving? I have done my share of Tiger hunting in my life and I've never seen a big cat that was able to move with more grace and fluidity than that man. I've read everything I could find about him and I'm still impressed by what I saw. Just the way he folds to sit was impressive. We must be glad that he's agreed to help us and if we can get his brothers' political and technical help we could indeed have the means of my ambition."
"Let's not have too high of a hope, my friend. A simple cooperation Treaty would be a blessing if it gives us access to a few modern, even civilian, airships. I'm quite sure Geffraan Khan isn't hostile to the use of modern weapons while planning his campaign."
"When do we announce his acceptation?"
"Only if the negotiations with our Muslim brothers fail, my friend. Only if they fail. Who knows, we will perhaps avoid the war after all?"
"Wouldn't that be a blessing?"
"Indeed, that would be a real blessing… A frustrating one but a welcomed one."
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"Did it go well?" asked Betty who was quite satisfied to have been authorized to accompany her parents and her younger siblings to this more than interesting trip.
"It went well indeed, we just threatened each other in a very civilized fashion while sipping tea like true gentlemen."
"Couldn't you just make him know your proposition?" asked Jane who was always very reluctant when she became aware of her husband's ruthlessness.
"We are in an eastern country, dear. Here diplomacy is always inwoven with threats and counterthreats. It is the way of the land…"
"When do you know it is time to stop threatening?"
"There are a few different ways but a smile on your counterpart's face is a good hint that that phase is behind you." He smiled at her. "That phase is now really behind us and I believe I've got myself a new job."
"I'm not sure I'm happy about that. I was quite satisfied to have you at home looking after the kids."
"Well that's why we got Betty with us, to play my part in my kids' education."
Both his wives sighed which brought bright smiles on the faces of both father and daughter.
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"Why is he here in Baghdad?" asked Fat′h Ali Shah Qajar his Master Spy.
"He's probably a special envoy for the Regent of Great Britain. I'd say he's here to respond to the Sultan's proposal of a treaty" answered Hajjij Yussuf Khan, the Shah's councilor for foreign Nations.
"That wouldn't be in our favor, would it?"
"You are right, Your Majesty. A treaty with the Brits would give the Sultan an awesome opening into these new technologies the Roumis are continuously creating. We need to do something to nip this treaty in the bud."
"He came with his family, probably to show his good faith and his trust to the Sultan. Look at which one of the children or wives is the easiest target, you wouldn't probably need to achieve an assassination, but to get him to quit and go back to England with a real anger in his heart, it would be better." Fat'h Ali Shah made his usual dismissing gesture. "Have it done soon, I don't want him to stay more than a few days."
Hajjij Yussuf Khan bowed and quitted the room bowed and while walking backwards. Turning your back on Fat'h Ali Shah Qajar was a very bad idea indeed.
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"I'm glad you accepted my invitation, Ladies," said Selim in fluent English when Jane and Maureen were ushered into the private summer garden of the Sultan. He was with a young woman whose eyes were showing great interest and even more eagerness.
"Had you been born in a Muslim country, I wouldn't have summoned you because it would have been an awful breach of etiquette. But since you are of western blood and of Christian faith, I allowed myself that little eccentricity." He pointed toward the young woman. "Meet Yasmina, my fourth daughter of my second marriage and the most scholarly of all my plentiful brood. Her private library is outshining even mine in numbers of titles with the important difference that most of the books you'll find in hers are probably forbidden by at least a dozen different Oulemas of Cairo."
"That's not true, father," protested said daughter. "Id' say less than a half are considered such." They saw her eyes shine and smile. "It is possible that the other half's not forbideness –I hope this word exists in English- is to be linked with the fact that they don't even know they even exist."
"So you are a scholar, dear" asked Jane. "You always wanted to be thus?"
"I would have loved to be a minister or a private adviser to my father, but being a woman my universe is reduced to the walls of the harem and the privacy of his gardens."
"And your library, dear…" added the Sultan.
"It is not my library, father, it is the Harem's library…" smiled back Yasmina.
"Which you are the only one who stocks it with new books and probably to use it with regularity."
"Another untruth, father, I teach all the young ones who haven't learned yet, to read and to write in the library, so there are quite a lot or your daughters and concubines who are using it at each moment of the day."
"How are your relations with my first wife?"
"She never comes into the library so we have a satisfactory relation. I ignore her and she ignores me."
The Sultan made the little gesture that his daughter knew to mean that he would deal with that problem at another time. He would speak with his wife who would nod without saying a word and nothing would change. At least she was no longer trying to have her throttled in her sleep. Last time it had happened twelve servants, thirty one eunuchs and two concubines had been smothered to death on the Sultan's orders and the whole staff of his first wife had been changed. The message had been received but her step mother's hatred hadn't vanished.
"I have asked you to come here, Ladies, because I'm burning with curiosity." He sighed. "You'll probably consider me an eccentric of unknown scale, but I must confess that I'm probably the world's greatest admirer of your late husband Geoffroy d'Arcy." He took a huge book from a case placed under his seat. "This is the result of twenty years of research centered on your late husband's life. I'm not bragging when I say that I know about him everything that was public or written down anywhere else than his secret personal notes –which, by the way, I'm still looking to buy if you are interested in selling . I have invited scores of men who have fought with him or under him –be them westerners from France and Ireland or easterners from Afghanistan and China- and I must admit that if I know quite well the Warlord and the Warrior and even the killer for hire, I still don't know the man." He smiled at them. "And having you here brought me the hope to, finally, be able to have a clear view of who was really Geoffroy d'Arcy, why he did what he did and why he chose to settle down at the height of his power." He opened the book and showed them a half dozen pages at the end of the book. "These are the only facts I could find on him as a human being." He sampled with his fingers the rest of the book, probably some hundreds of written pages. "And this is what I gathered about his military, diplomatic, political and more exotic carrier. You must admit and understand that, as a passionate man whose favorite subject of study is about to unveil itself, I can't live without begging you to speak about your late husband with me." He looked at them with eyes that were literally bursting with hope. "Who better than his wives to give me an idea of what was the man whose death was, for me, an utter catastrophe. I wanted to meet him, to ask him about some of his decisions on the field and even more, I lusted to have the opportunity to befriend him." He sighed sadly. "His death has deprived me of that pleasure so I did my very best to know everything about him. And I really believe I found everything that was possible. Everything else that I will ever be possible to learn is probably within your memories. Will you, please, make me the great honor of speaking with me about him, Ladies? I won't ask questions, I just want you to speak about him, about your life with him. Will you be so kind and placate an old man's fancy?"
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Maureen looked at Jane and couldn't really decide what to do. Never would they have thought that the Sultan would come out in such a manner and ask them such personal questions.
Of course Geoffrey had warned them that the Sultan knew about his survival and that he had uttered his invitation in order to probably get him as his Commander in Chief.
But that the man's interest would be so deep and passionate was quite a surprise for both of them.
Jane sighed and smiled at the Sultan even if the veil was hiding it quite efficiently. But she supposed that in a culture where veils were as common as here, men had probably, learned to look at their women's eyes.
"I'll tell you how he was when we met for the first time" said Jane after a few seconds of thought. Immediately Yasmina began to write down her words. "It was in Rosings, Aunt de Bourgh's estate, and the weather was fine. I was with my sister and my best friend Charlotte and her own sister and we were walking in the woods to…"
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Her voice was like a cool spring in the desert bubbling along a few shiny stones. He was sure that he could listen for hours without ever tiring. Her eyes were smiling and even if he could discern tiny webs of wrinkles on the eyes 'sides what he could see from her face was in no way in accordance with what he knew about her age. She was born in 1778 and she was now forty five but those weren't the eyes of a woman of five an forty years. Those weren't the eyes of a woman who had given twice birth to twins.
He looked at Yasmina's eyes and tried to remember the eyes of Nef'i Zar his first wife who was forty two of age and there was no comparison possible between his wife and d'Arcy's. He could no longer doubt that Jane d'Arcy –as was sung in ballads and poems all over the inner Sea- had been touched by the grace of eternal beauty and youth. Or that she had been taught the arts of cheating God's will by using charms and poultices.
He would have to isolate them even more than he had first planned. There were rumors about her and her sisters in England. Ugly rumors that would drive even the most reasonable Oulema into a killing frenzy. Thank Allah those rumors never made their way till Istanbul and, he knew from experience, no western rumor ever made his way to Baghdad. But one never knew about such fickly things. And he doubted that d'Arcy would take lightly his first wife's death at the stake. If it came even to that, which he doubted greatly knowing what he knew about d'Arcy's and his second wife's skills at self-defense.
No he would not risk his throne and dynasty because of an idiot of an Oulema who was in need to emulate his western Christian brethren's witch hunting skills. He made a mental note to have the most idiotic of the local priesthood sent to Cairo. They had been asking him for it for years now and he had always refused since he wasn't interested in straining even more his relations with Napoleon. But now was probably the time to show to his reluctant priests that he had understood their fears. He would send the whole pack to Cairo with very clear instructions –they wouldn't obey, like usual- not to stir up the French by calling for an open revolt against the Roumi oppressors. Napoleon would, he had no doubt on the subject, make short work with said trouble mongers and the sad Sultan would have to protest vehemently when facing with what had happened to his clerical dignitaries. Would he have to swing his saber to convince the remaining clerics that he was serious? Probably. But, if he timed this little exodus well, he would already be in a war with Persia and Persia's allies. Nobody would ask him to open a second front. Not against Napoleon and his veterans. He would reinforce the border garrisons to placate the wailing clerics but he would stay put. And if the wails tended to make too much noise he would have to remind everybody who was Commander of the Faithful.
Meanwhile Mrs. d'Arcy was explaining how d'Arcy had proposed to her within an hour of having seen her in flesh. He could very well understand how such haste could win over a woman like Jane Bennet who looked like the epitome of poised and reasonable manners. Unreasonable and exotic had been the right tools to impress her and d'Arcy had used them steadily till he had her convinced that he was the right man to give her life the adventure she probably didn't know she craved.
Yes, this was in total accordance with everything else he had learned about d'Arcy. A man who had the knack to find an enemy's weakness just by studying his battles had a good chance to read a man –or a woman in that case- with quite a lot of accuracy.
And it had paid for him and for his wife.
Selim couldn't conceal a satisfied smile. Indeed these stories were worth every second he was spending listening them. Know your enemy had always been a good advice. Know your commander in chief was an even better one. Especially for a commander in chief who was renowned to easily get the trust and total loyalty of his subordinates.
Selim wasn't worried by the man's ambition. D'Arcy had shown that he wasn't interested in climbing on a throne even if he had taken successful measures to get his dynasty in power in what was not a lesser kingdom.
And with his daughter betrothed to Napoleon's heir d'Arcy was quite certain that his blood would stay at the top of the world's hierarchy, one way or the other.
No, d'Arcy's ambition was not what he had to fear. But he would have to look after him. Clearly he was a man who could do reckless with ease and without the least hesitation. And reckless was not something the Ottoman Empire was able to afford with his troops right now.
He would have to give d'Arcy clear instructions about… No, not instructions, he needed to let d'Arcy do his job without having a neophyte like him trying to micromanage the war. He would have to convince him to be thrifty with his troops. What he would get would be everything the Empire could afford for quite a long time. D'Arcy wasn't known to be a chief who tented to sacrifice his men for a more glamorous victory but this time he would have to really understand that there wouldn't be any reinforcement available before quite a long period. He had been spoiled by going into war with massive armies and experienced soldiers and he would have to do with a small army and soldiers who had never before used the offensive doctrine they had created. There was no doubt that it would change the way d'Arcy waged his new war.
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Yasmina had been for a very long time her father's private and trusted secretary. She had even taken notes for him in a few foreign languages and she had trained to be able to take notes in English. The fact that Jane d'Arcy was speaking a very comprehensive Turkish was, all in all, easing things for her. Because she was not only writing down Jane's words, she was scrutinizing both women who were facing her.
She had lived for twenty four years in her father's harem and she was quite efficient at reading a woman's nature out of her behavior and stances. In this case it was a little more difficult because both women came from two different cultural backgrounds than her own but she was quite sure she wasn't very wrong in her judgment.
And a judgment it was, not of the women facing her but of herself and of her likelihood to blend in a family whose cultural roots were so totally different from hers.
After an hour of that double tasking she was more than satisfied with what she had discovered. The woman who was speaking was, without a doubt, the dominant wife, not only in title but in fact. Everything in her behavior and mannerisms spoke of a steady and recognized authority but her leadership was of the benign sort, infused with calm certainty and true concern not threats and distrust.
Every few seconds or so her eyes searched her sister to share a glance in order to reassure each other that they cared. This wasn't a wife surveying her sisters to prevent being surprised but it was the look of a lover searching comfort from her loved ones. The other one, the redhead, was much more discreet but not less attentive. She was trying to give to the world the image of a perfectly compliant wife. But that was all disguise; she was the one with the eyes for the details and who was surveying everything around them. Yasmina was sure that she had already looked into all the possible escape routes and decided where she had to look to see the majority of the possible threats arriving. Coming the moment she would be in charge and the blonde would follow her orders without a second thought. Those two not only trusted each other but clearly loved each other with all their heart.
Yasmina had been authorized to read her father's books about d'Arcy and his family and had done her best to know everything about the wives. She knew quite a lot about both women. How they had lived their youth and how they had built their relationship. And she had really been amazed by the story of d'Arcy's second wedding. That the first wife had decided to share her husband with another because that other was in love with her husband had seemed more of a fairy tale than anything else and until now she had believed it to be a smart propaganda scheme. But seeing them together she was quite sure that it was exactly what had happened.
She looked at her father and nodded her assent which brought one of his very rare full smiles on his thin and worried lips.
He had been adamant that while he was alive, she wouldn't be forced into anything. But he would soon celebrate his fifty sixth birthday and the shadow of his death was more and more present behind him. They had lengthily spoken about a way to get her in a place better suited to a woman of her intellect and for a long time he had only been able to keep her with him in the Palace. With his first wife's increasing hostility against his favorite daughter even this solution had been more and more a dead end. He needed to get her out of an environment that could be very dangerous for those who were not feared or respected.
And one day, a few weeks past, he had proposed her this very solution. To marry her to the only western family who had been able to show that everything was possible. He had come to her with the offer, but had insisted that it would be her choice and that he would find another solution if she refused this one.
She had accepted on condition that she had a good feeling about the other wives.
She had also accepted his words because she knew that they were the truth. He wouldn't force her but she knew better than to refuse what, with this marriage, he was offering her.
He was offering her a ticket out of the harem and probably the only one which would give her a chance to become anything else but a broodmare in a foreign harem.
With, perhaps, as an additional bonus, a chance at being happy at last.
She had been worried because of the husband's age –after all d'Arcy was born just a year after her own father- and had said as much.
And so her father had given her the possibility to have a look at the man he was about to give her to.
She had been impressed with how the man was wearing his five and fifty years. She had seen men in their twenties who weren't as physically impressing as this odd old-timer.
She had read her father's book about him and she knew that he had been an assassin and a spy before becoming France's second best strategist and one of the most important men of the western world. She had read stories about his constant endeavor to stay in shape by fighting daily against his best warriors. And clearly the man who walked aside her father had lost nothing of his brawniness.
And this was the man who, at the height of his power, had chosen to fake his death and to disappear in the shadow to reappear years later under the disguise of Gefraan Khan. Gefraan Khan whose only goal had been to seduce and marry d'Arcy's first wife.
To Yasmina it had for a very long time looked like the most idiotic thing to do in his situation. Why would a man who just succeeded at getting rid of his wives want to get back under their yoke?
But now, having seen the wives she was able to understand it much better.
Power and riches were important if you want to reach your goals. But once you've reached them, what remains?
D'Arcy had decided that what remained was a family and that the love it sustained to its members was more important than riches and titles which had, thanks to his death, been bestowed upon his wives and heirs.
Yes indeed, she would like to be a part of that particular family. She just hoped that her father would be able to convince the husband without alienating the wives.
Now that she had seen them, sharing that famous husband of theirs was no longer enough, she wanted to be able to be looked at by Jane d'Arcy in the same manner she looked at her sister. It would be so much better than the hostility and challenge she had lived with her whole life.
l
-°-oOo-°-
"How was it" asked Betty when they came back. The kids were all splashing around in the swimming basin of the House the Sultan has provided for the d'Arcys. They were not yet aware of their mothers return and Jane and Maureen were currently undressing to join them in the pool.
"Weird" said Jane and Maureen nodded. "They clearly searched a pretext to have a look at us. The Sultan was with his daughter and she spent more time studying us than taking notes."
"It seemed to me that she did both" commented Maureen with a smile.
"Indeed she did but her major endeavor was to assess us, I'm sure."
"Why would they want to assess us? We are only wives. For Muslims, women are just a little above cattle. They should have ignored us and considered us only as assets they could use to force Geoff to do their biddings."
Jane made a face and shook her head.
"No, there was a real interest in their eyes. And have you seen his smile when she nodded in his direction?"
"Indeed I saw the nod and the smile, you believe it signifies something?"
"Yes it does, I'm not yet sure what it means but it is important, I'm sure."
"We'll have to ask Papa when he comes back" said Betty. "He has been invited by the Shahinshah to chat over a cup of tea."
Jane shared a smile with her sister and her daughter.
"It does seem that the diplomatic circus is in full array. Hopefully he'll be back for the supper."
"I wouldn't bet on it" commented Betty. "The Shahinsha's envoy was rather adamant that his master was asking for a lengthy interview…"
"Well, we shall see… How was the brood?"
"Excited but happy to have the possibility to jump into fresh water" answered Betty. "The climate here is, to say the least, challenging." She pointed toward the fruit covered table. "They like the food, though."
"Thank God for small blessings. As for the climate, it is indeed on the harsh side but, fortunately, this house of ours is imbedded in a luscious garden with pool. We should be able to survive through our stay."
"You have an idea how long we'll have to stay here?"
"We will stay as long as it will take for your father to succeed in what he's here to achieve. I suppose it could take months or even years." She smiled at her daughter's pout. "We're here because we chose to, dear, you won't be forced to stay if it becomes difficult, the day we no longer can put up with the land or the people we go home, I promise. The Zephyr is in Damascus and can be here within a day, the moment we want to move we summon the airship and prepare the trunks."
