Chapter 47: A Difficult Choice

I continue with my newly established routine. At my next private dancing lesson I begin to practise a seven veil dance. The harem store has a quantity of veils from which I can borrow what I need. There are four lengths and five thicknesses of veil from which to choose. The thickest is almost opaque ... and heavy ... while the thinnest has virtually no weight at all, but hides nothing. Using seven thick veils would be like dancing in plate armour, and not the least bit alluring. I experiment with different configurations of veils. I soon begin to realise that constructing a seven veil dance costume requires as much skill as performing the dance itself, and both must be the personal choice of the dancer.

At my usual during dancing practise I must dance to imaginary music. Nebahat sometimes helps by clapping a simple rhythm or humming a tune. Only when dancers are preparing for a formal entertainment do we have the benefit of musicians playing for us while we practise.

I restrict my veil dancing practise to when I’m alone with Nebahat. Doing so hides my embarrassment at my first clumsy attempts. Nebahat is a constant source of encouragement, and she suggests improvements to my routine or to the costume whenever I end up tangled in my veils ... which is often. Gradually I discover a routine and combination of veils which seems to work for me. After a few weeks of practise I can at least get through the dance four times out of five without entangling myself. Nebahat seems pleased with my progress and suggests that I now work on extending the length of the dance.

A side benefit of my veil dancing is that my other dancing improves as well. My much improved agility encourages the younger women to try harder; Aysun in particular. When I saw Aysun dance at Ahmed’s birthday celebration, I thought that she had the potential to be a great dancer. These lessons prove that I was right in my assessment. Nebahat is also impressed and encourages her and Nuray to learn harder dances. As usual, it is difficult practising to imaginary music. When we arrive for our next practise, we are surprised and relieved when Nebahat tells us that she has arranged for a trio of musicians to join our practise session today.

The musicians are three of those who played at Ahmed’s birthday celebration. In a harem so large, it is unusual for there to be so few musicians among the women. I can understand the reason why there are fewer dancers than in Constantinople, but not so few musicians. The Edirne harem has a higher proportion of older and married women. Unlike dancing, playing an instrument isn’t something constrained by age or marital status. A married woman playing an instrument in public is socially acceptable, whereas it’s considered inappropriate for a married woman to perform a dance before men whom aren’t part of her family. It was an additional reason Anna was punished so severely for dancing at Ahmed’s celebration.

We begin our lesson. Once we get used to the rhythm of the music, we put on a display which I think shows how far each of us has come in a short space of time. Nebahat is pleased and promises to see if the agas will release the musicians from their work duties so that they can play for us regularly.

The following Monday sees the first of the married couples moved into the newly refurbished building. It’s the start of some major changes over the next few days. By the end of the week, the main harem has lost nearly half of its population as the married women move into their new quarters. One of the four dormitories is emptied and many odalisques are assigned new sleeping positions. Its not just the drop in the number of women that forces the changes. The average age of the women in the harem reduces considerably. There are still a few older women, such as Fahrunissa, but well over half the remaining slaves in the main harem are younger than me. With so few mature and experienced women in the harem, discipline takes a backward step. Araj Aga can’t believe his luck when he’s charged with restoring order. More than a few odalisques become familiar with the inside of the harem dungeon, but Araj Aga’s efforts quickly restore discipline.

I still meet with Anna von Erdödy from time to time, but she now socialises with her own circle of friends. Our mutual lessons in Turkish and Hungarian are less formal now that both of us are more fluent. She seems remarkably settled into harem life, as though she prefers it to her former life as a countess. I suppose it’s a result of disliking her much older husband, and the loss of her lover Nebi.

As I anticipated, Şah Sultan decides to reduce Ahmed’s own harem to his current favourites. Nuray is firmly established as his favourite, and she may soon be considered for further hatun training. Mehtap and Tülay are assigned to the family wing to help with the children, while Esmeray and Şenay are demoted to odalisques and sent to work in the laundry. What saves Aysun from a similar fate is her exceptional dancing ability. Şah Sultan decides to let her continue her dance training with Nuray, although she’s no longer considered part of Ahmed’s harem. At least she retains her six aspers daily stipend, whereas Esmeray’s and Şenay’s stipends are reduced to three aspers per day.

We settle into the new living arrangements and routine. My swelling belly is starting to feel uncomfortable at times, but I refuse to let it interfere with my activities. However, it does remind me of how long I’ve been here. My baby will be arriving in another three months and I still hope that Hasan will return to me before then.

I’ve not received news of where Hasan might be, or what he is doing. There’s nothing unusual in that. The harem is a closed community. No news enters or leaves the harem without Şah Sultan’s consent. I can only console myself with the knowledge that I would almost certainly be told if Hasan had been killed.

I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t considered the possibility of Hasan being killed on his mission. Ibrahim admitted that the mission was dangerous, and it was important enough for Hasan to be reassigned from his duties at the hunting lodge. I would be in a tricky situation if Hasan died. I would miss him, of course, but we haven’t been married long and I can still function without him. In practical terms I would immediately lose the right to use the Çelibi name, and the remains of the money Hasan gave me for my living expenses would be confiscated and returned to his family. Only my clothes and jewels would remain my own property. My own family is dead, so there’s nobody responsible for finding me a new husband.