Chapter 31: Return to Constantinople

Fortunately Nur has anticipated that Hasan and I aren’t going to be ready to set off for Constantinople as early as we originally intended. Ibrahim has arranged for us to travel with a small group of merchants transporting their wares to Constantinople. Merchant caravans with an armed escort are a common sight on the roads leading to Constantinople. It’s a slow but safe way to travel through the sections of rugged country where bandits often lurk.

Nur rouses us from our slumber at nine o’clock. She tells us that she’s told the merchants that we’ll catch up with their caravan later in the day. Fortunately for us the merchants’ pack animals and wagons move no faster than a walking pace and the caravan makes frequent stops for one reason or another. Hasan estimates that despite their two hour head start, we should catch up to the caravan by mid-afternoon. Nevertheless we walk at a brisk pace. Bandits may be rare this close to a large city but there’s no point in taking chances.

Hasan estimate is correct, and we catch up to the merchants while they are busy fording a small river. In fine weather this well travelled road wouldn’t normally present any major obstacles to wagons. However heavy rain overnight has caused the river to rise and the merchants aren’t willing to wait until the river level drops. To make matters worse, the merchants have loaded their wagons to capacity and one of the heavier wagons has become stuck in the muddy river bank. Freeing the wagon takes nearly an hour. The caravan master doesn’t seem unduly concerned by the delay despite the merchants’ repeated pleading for his workers to make haste.

Our journey to Constantinople takes much longer than the one Seker Aga and I took in the other direction. Not that I’m complaining. It gives Hasan and I plenty of time to get to know each other better. There are few opportunities for us to be intimate, but we nevertheless manage to snatch some time alone. It’s through these brief interludes that I discover the real potential of my harem training in the art of sexual intimacy. I soon begin to use my ripening powers to keep Hasan in an almost perpetual state of desire for me. Nur notices the change in Hasan’s composure, but she doesn’t identify my actions as the cause. Instead she jokes about Hasan being a randy soldier lusting for his new bride. It’s a good-natured joke which soon spreads throughout the caravan. The joking only emboldens me to greater efforts to increase Hasan’s lust for me. Hasan is more than happy to play along with the game as he knows the likely reward when he and I are next alone.

The people we pass on the road, and those we see during our occasional stops in villages, opens my eyes to what life might have been like for me if I hadn’t been sent to the Imperial Harem when I was enslaved. Many of the slaves we see on our journey suffer a much harsher life than the one I experienced in Constantinople. Seeing a slave woman my age wearing threadbare clothing and carrying water urns from the well sticks in my mind. That could easily have been me had fate dictated otherwise.

Hasan and I part company with the merchants on the outskirts of Constantinople and make our way to the house where Ibrahim told us to go. It’s a huge mansion, obviously belonging to some pasha or wealthy merchant. We are greeted by an elderly man who, after examining the letter of introduction which Ibrahim gave to Hasan, shows us to a small servant’s bedroom which is to be ours for our short stay here. Despite our slow journey from Salonica, Hasan and I are among the first of the assorted gardeners, cooks, maids and other servants Ibrahim said are being hired to look after the hostages at a hunting lodge not far from Constantinople.

It doesn’t take long before we have a sense of unease. As soon as I learn he name of pasha who owns this house, I realise we face more challenges than Ibrahim implied. Heyreddin Pasha has a reputation for being selfish and greedy. I’ve never met him, but the women who took refuge in the Imperial Harem during the janissary revolt some months ago spoke about Heyreddin Pasha with a mixture of loathing and disgust. I tell Hasan what little I know about Heyreddin Pasha.

“The Grand Vizier is probably punishing Heyreddin Pasha for abandoning Constantinople during the janissary revolt,” says Hasan. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Heyreddin Pasha is being expected to dig into his own coffers to pay for the upkeep of the hostages. It probably explains why Ibrahim wants Nur and I to keep an eye on the situation.”

“Then this is yet more palace politics at play,” I grumble.

“Undoubtedly,” agrees Hasan. “But Heyreddin Pasha hasn’t refused the task, so he must value his political position among the governing pashas more than the financial burden he is being asked to bear. Nor will he want to fail in this duty, or the other pashas will delight in his downfall. All the pashas play a high stakes game. Power and influence await those able to scramble to the top of the slippery slope of politics. And once achieved, the pashas must work hard to stay there.”

Over the next few days, Hasan Nur and I are joined by five men, Bekir, Kemel and Nebi, as guards, and Mursel and Yazid, as maintenance staff; and four women, Emine, Huban, Nefise and Safiye, who are to be the cooks and housemaids. The number of additional servants for the lodge are far fewer than Ibrahim lead us to believe. I suspect Heyreddin Pasha is intending to spend as little money as possible. I hope we aren’t going to be expected to do the impossible as a consequence.

“You will all be departing for the lodge in the morning,” says the elderly man who is our main contact with Heyreddin Pasha’s household. “You will be travelling on foot in two separate groups. Bekir and Kemel will be told the route to the lodge.”

“I was told there would be more servants being hired than the twelve of us,” says Yazid.

“I know nothing about that,” says the elderly man. “I merely carry out my master’s instructions.”