Chapter 29: A Private Conversation

“Leave Gülnihal and I alone for a while,” says Ibrahim to Hasan and Nur. “Gülnihal is likely to be more receptive to my proposal if you two aren’t hovering over her. Return in an hour.”

Hasan and Nur seem to have expected Ibrahim’s order and leave their house without complaint. When I don’t make any move, Ibrahim indicates that I should sit on the chair by the window ... something I would never have been allowed to do in his presence while I was a slave. I can see that it will take me a while to overcome some of the Imperial Harem training.

“I hadn’t expected to see you so soon, Master of the Royal Bedchamber,” I say to Ibrahim. “Is there a problem with our arrangement?”

“Ibrahim. You should address me as Ibrahim while I’m away from the palace. And no ... there’s no problem with your arrangement with the Padisha.”

“So why are you here? I take it that Hasan’s intervention yesterday wasn’t a coincidence. Did you instruct him to stop me?”

“Yes and no. While it is true that Hasan works for me, his approach to you yesterday was his own decision. As it turns out, it was a fortunate intervention for us all. Even I would have difficulty in rescuing you from some slave market without drawing attention.”

While I’m thankful for Hasan’s rescue, I’m still not convinced this meeting will work out alright for me. Ibrahim may be a loyal friend and servant to Sultan Suleiman, but he also plays his own murky games on the side.

“Nur mentioned that I had passed some test, and that you had a proposal to offer me,” I reply, impatient to find out the real purpose of this meeting.

“Yes. I confess that in Constantinople I had my doubts that you could succeed in carrying out your part of the arrangement. You face numerous obstacles in achieving the goal Sultan Suleiman desires. But so far you have done well. Nur’s assessment of your abilities suggests that my earlier doubts about you may have been unduly pessimistic.”

“I’ve only just met Nur,” I reply. “How can she tell you about me?”

“Nur is a skilful interrogator,” laughs Ibrahim. “Few people are able to keep secrets from her. Yet despite her lengthy questioning of you yesterday, you never once let slip that you are pregnant. Nor did you give her any reason to believe that you are anything other than a concubine who has outstayed her usefulness in the Imperial Harem.”

I recall that Nur’s questions were more probing than I would have expected from a curious host. More than once I nearly made an error and admitted to being pregnant. But I obviously came through her interrogation successfully.

“And what role does Hasan carry out for you?” I ask, wanting to satisfy my curiosity, even though it has nothing to do with the matter in hand.

“Until recently he was a soldier in the Ottoman army. He and several others like him operated behind Hungarian lines gathering valuable information. Information which was reported to me so that I could advise the sultan on his best course of action. Hasan proved himself to be a loyal and able scout. I like to reward those who do good service in the sultan’s name.”

“So you have given him work when he might otherwise have difficulty in finding employment,” I surmise.

“Not exactly,” replies Ibrahim. “Hasan and Nur are both capable of finding work by themselves. However, Hasan is very observant; something which makes him useful as a spy. And his sister is an excellent interrogator. It’s those talents which earn them their places in my employ.”

Ibrahim’s comments merely confirm my existing suspicions about his secret activities. I’m just surprised that he’s confessed all this to me.

“If providing employment isn’t Hasan’s reward, then what is?” I ask.

“You ... if you’re willing,” replies Ibrahim. “Hear my proposal before you answer.”

I’m too flabbergasted to say anything. Ibrahim takes my silence as permission to proceed.

“Firstly, let us consider your own situation,” begins Ibrahim. “You are alone with no family to help you. The money Sultan Suleiman gave you will pay for a room to live in and food to eat ... but no amount of money can buy you everything you need. It won’t buy you safety. Nor will it buy you acceptance into whichever community you decide to settle. You only have a few weeks before your pregnancy will begin to show. A single woman expecting a child has little chance of being allowed to settle down in any small town or village where she isn’t already known. Which only leaves the larger towns and cities, where you are likely to be easy prey for slavers and the like.”

Ibrahim pauses his monologue in order to gauge my reaction. So far he has said nothing which I don’t already know. My initial plan was focussed on evading anybody who might want to follow me. That plan hasn’t worked out as I hoped, and I haven’t had time to reconsider my options. Ibrahim continues when he is satisfied that his comments have struck home.

“Whether you like it or not,” continues Ibrahim, “you need the protection of a man. The law provides minimal protection for an unmarried woman.”

“I’m aware of the risks,” I reply. “But I will not be married off to some elderly widower who wants a young wife to look after his children. Besides, how many men want a wife who is expecting another man’s child?”

“Hasan is neither elderly, nor a widower. And you are clearly attracted to him. Just as he is to you.”

“How do you know how Hasan feels about me? Or how I feel about him?”

“My instructions to Hasan were for him to merely follow and observe you yesterday. His decision to stop and help you was his own choice. A decision probably driven by his attraction to you.”

I doubt Ibrahim is telling the whole truth, but I don’t see any reason for him to tell an outright lie.

“Hasan could barely see me under the hood of my cloak,” I reply. “How could he be attracted to me?”