6-3 New acquaintances
The two men make a grab for me, but Hasan Çelebi pulls me behind him and out of their reach.
"Stand aside, boy," snarls the larger of the two men. "This is palace business. Do you know the penalty for helping a slave escape from her rightful owner."
"I'm not a slave," I reply, doing my best to hide my anger and fear.
"You heard my friend," says Hasan Çelebi. "Clearly you have mistaken her identity. Leave us in peace and we will forget your bad manners."
The smaller man stifles a laugh at Hasan's words and looks at Hasan with contempt. However, it is his associate who is obviously the leader.
"According to Mercan Aga of the palace, this girl is a slave placed in his charge by Sultan Suleiman himself," says the large man to Hasan. "He has offered a handsome reward for this girl's recapture. Don't risk the sultan's wrath by getting in our way."
"If what you say is true, then the sultan's wrath is likely to be directed at Mercan Aga. I doubt the sultan will be happy Mercan Aga has been so careless as to allow a young girl to escape from his charge. What is the name of the girl whom you seek?"
"Her name is not important," replies the large man. "But this girl is the one Mercan Aga pointed out to us when she was seen leaving a ship this morning."
"If Mercan Aga saw her leave a ship, then why didn't he apprehend her at once?" asks Hasan. "It would save him from having to pay a reward for her recapture."
The large man doesn't have a ready answer to Hasan's question. I know, of course, that Mercan Aga wouldn't have tried to kidnap me in front of so many witnesses. If his intention is to enslave me, then he would need to do so discreetly. My escape from the ship must have foiled his original plan and he's had to rely on these two men.
"We don't have to answer your questions," snarls the large man, producing a big knife which he had hidden inside his robe. His associate does likewise.
But the two men aren't the only ones carrying hidden weapons. Hasan flicks his cloak aside to reveal a scimitar holstered across his back. Hasan places his hand on the handle, but doesn't draw his blade. The confidence he shows in his action indicates that he could draw the weapon faster than the two men could attack with their knives.
"You're a fool," says the large man. "Why involve yourself over some worthless slave. Hand her over and we'll not report your actions to Mercan Aga."
"Report me to him if you like. But you're the fools if you think Mercan Aga is ever going to pay you the promised reward," laughs Hasan.
Hasan's words must fuel a lingering doubt in the minds of the two men. Mercan Aga's reputation for greed and dishonesty must be more widespread than I had thought. Even Mercan Aga's own men don't really trust him. The two men put away their knives and leave as quickly as they arrived. I let out a sigh of relief. I realise that I've had a narrow escape from enslavement.
"Do you think they will go running to Mercan Aga and tell him what happened?" I ask.
"Possibly, but more likely they will say that they couldn't find you," replies Hasan. "Few men are willing to risk getting killed for a reward which may never be paid."
"You seem very confident in your skills as my protector," I say, trying to express my gratitude while masking my roiling emotions.
"Confident enough to scare off those two bullies," replies Hasan. "Now, allow me to escort you to somewhere safer. It would be unfortunate if those two have simply gone for reinforcements."
I don't argue when Hasan leads me through some back alleys and into a small courtyard. The courtyard is almost completely surrounded by dwellings. The houses are well kept and the buildings are in much better condition than those in some of the areas we have walked through to get here.
"Welcome to the Çelebi compound, ...err ... you haven't told me your name," says Hasan as he escorts me into one of the houses.
"Gülnihal," I reply, having previously decided to continue using the name I was given in the Imperial Harem, rather than my birth name, Maria. The sultan's letter granting me my freedom refers to me as Gülnihal, so it seems safer to continue using that name.
"So, tell me something about yourself, Gülnihal," asks Hasan. "You aren't from these parts. Your name is Turkish but from your looks, you are neither Turkish nor Greek."
"My family lived in a small town in the Kingdom of Poland," I reply.
"Is that where you are going?" asks Hal.
"No. My home was destroyed, and my parents killed, in a tartar raid. There are only painful memories waiting for me in Poland. I'm simply looking for somewhere safe to settle down."
"What about this fair city of Salonica? It's as safe as anywhere in the Ottoman Empire. Mercan Aga isn't typical of Salonica's residents."
I risk being found if I stay in Salonica. Mercan Aga isn't the only person who might be looking for me. I doubt he will give up so easily, particularly if the Valide decides to make enquiries into my whereabouts. I'm about to reply to Hasan's suggestion when a woman in her twenties enters the house. Hasan introduces me to his older sister, Nur, and I'm subjected to further questions from both of them before I'm invited to stay for the night. I readily accept their offer, not fancying my chances of finding better accommodation for tonight. Nur continues to question me while I help with some of the chores. I'm careful not to reveal too much, but I keep to the truth. Nur would become suspicious if she caught me telling lies.
"So, Nur. What have you learned about our mysterious guest?" asks Hasan of Nur when the three of us sit down to an evening meal.
"A girl of mystery, indeed," replies Nur. "She says she has grown up in Poland, but her features are those of a Roxalani. Furthermore, she speaks Turkish like an Ottoman."
"That's not much of a mystery," muses Hasan. "Most of the lands inhabited by the Roxolani have been part of the Ottoman Empire for decades. Some Roxalani fled into other kingdoms when the Ottoman army invaded their territory. Gülnihal's story is plausible."
"You misunderstand me, my not-so-clever brother," retorts Nur playfully. "When I say that she speaks Turkish like an Ottoman, I mean like a member of the imperial household. You forget that my late husband worked as a gardener at the palace here in Salonica. We spent three years in the proximity of those living in the palace. They all share the same mannerisms, and speak the same way as Gülnihal."
"Roxolani are Christians," says Hasan, becoming more serious. "They can only enter the imperial household as slaves. Were those two men chasing you telling the truth, Gülnihal? Are you an escaped slave from the palace? You know the penalty we face for helping a slave escape from her rightful owner."
"I told the truth. I'm a free woman," I reply quickly. "I was a slave ... but no longer. I carry a letter confirming what I say."
I go to my bag and produce the sultan's letter for Hasan to read. He glances at it before handing it to Nur. She reads it carefully before returning it to me.
"An unusual manumission letter," says Nur as she hands my letter back to me. "It isn't signed by some palace clerk, but with an Ottoman personal seal. Which means you are no ordinary slave girl who has earned her freedom. I think you owe us a better explanation about how you come to be here."
It's a reasonable request. I realise I must tell Hasan and Nur more of my story if I'm to continue receiving their help. But I will be placing them in danger if I tell them that I'm pregnant and carrying Sultan Suleiman's child.
"I was a concubine in the Imperial Harem in Constantinople," I say, not certain how they will react to my statement. "The sultan no longer needed me in his harem, so he granted me my freedom."
"But not an arranged marriage?" questions Nur. "Isn't an arranged marriage the usual practise when a concubine is set free?"
"Not always," I reply, cursing my misfortune to come across someone who knows more than the average person about such things. "I could have asked for a marriage to be arranged, but I didn't want that."
"Despite the difficulties and dangers facing a young woman on her own?" persists Nur, clearly sensing that there is more to my story.
"I was receiving help from palace officials until this morning," I reply. "But Mercan Aga tried to betray me for his own profit. It was he and his associates whom I was fleeing from today. In that respect, the men who tried to seize me were telling the truth."
"Hah!" laughs Nur. "Now that is something I can believe! I know that greedy toad. I'm surprised Mercan Aga hasn't come to a sticky end before now."
Indirectly, Mercan Aga has helped me. Nur is less suspicious of me now that she knows I share her wariness of Mercan Aga. But apart from a place to sleep for tonight, I'm no closer to finding a safe place to go. But that is a problem for tomorrow. Tonight I relax and enjoy the company of new acquaintances.
The next morning I realise that my decision to trust Hasan and Nur may have been premature. I wake to find that Nur has opened my bag and emptied the contents onto the table. I have only a few possessions, but several of them are extremely valuable. My bejewelled jacket probably being worth enough to feed a family for years. Nur clearly knows its worth and is examining it thoroughly when I challenge her.
"What are you doing going through my things?" I demand.
"I knew you hadn't told us everything last night," says Nur calmly as though she's every right to search my bag. "It seems you are even more of a mystery than you admitted."
"Return my things and I'll be on my way," I snap.
"Not just yet," replies Hasan, entering the room. "We need to be satisfied that these jewels aren't stolen. You could be a thief for all we know."
"I've told you the truth," I reply, suddenly fearing for my safety. "Those are gifts given to me while I was in the Imperial Harem. They were given to me by Sultan Suleiman himself."
"He must have thought highly of you to give you gifts as valuable as these," says Nur. "And yet you claim he no longer wanted you in his harem. How strange. I think you owe us an explanation."
"Sultan Suleiman may have thought highly of me, but his heart belongs to another girl in his harem," I reply. "Hürrem. A friend of mine. The sultan didn't want us to end up fighting, which is why he freed me."
"I've heard talk of this Hürrem," says Hasan. "Some say that she's a witch who has beguiled the sultan."
"Idle tavern gossip," says Nur. "I too have heard of Hürrem, but she's probably nothing more than the sultan's latest fancy. I will accept Gülnihal's story for the time being. I'm willing to tell our employer that Gülnihal has passed the test. I presume you agree, brother of mine. You can barely tear your eyes away from our guest."
I'm not certain I like the way this conversation is going, but at least Nur returns my possessions to me. I quickly check them and repack my bag. I look at Hasan for an explanation, but he makes no response apart from a nod of agreement to Nur's statement.
"What test?" I ask.
"Our employer will arrive shortly and he will explain his plan," says Nur. "You are in no danger. When you've heard what he has to say, you can either accept what he proposes, or leave on your journey to wherever you are going. In the meantime, let's have some breakfast."
I'm in two minds whether to simply leave at once, or to wait and see what happens. I even grab my bag and walk towards the door. It's only when neither of them make a move to stop me, do I decide that I am safe in staying. I sit down again and eat some breakfast.
Had I known the identity of their employer, I might have been less willing to stay. By the time I have finished eating, their employer has arrived. It's Pargali Ibrahim, Master of the Royal Bedchamber.