An Evil Eye

25

“ The mother has discovered her infant,” the valide said.

Yashim had to bow to catch her words. Around them women, eunuchs, and slaves were talking and weeping. An elderly eunuch patted his face with his bony fingers. Yashim noticed one mother snatch up her little boy and squeeze him, struggling, while the little boy opened his fist and tried to show her a collection of silver coins. Bezmialem, the young valide, had her head back and was squeezing the bridge of her nose between her fingers. Some of the younger women were shaking their heads, muttering to one another.

“You should not have come, hanum efendi,” Yashim said. “A sad occasion.”

The valide glanced at him sharply. “For the lady, bien sur. At my age, Yashim, one is inured to grief. Perhaps one even seeks it out, a little. I have lived too long to pretend that my death will be a cause of it.” She closed her fan. “The child was born without-the orifice necessaire. I am sorry for the girl, of course. It will be a comfort to her to know that I was here.”

The valide began to cough. Her hand went up and somebody pressed a handkerchief into it. She put the handkerchief to her lips and shut her eyes. “I wish to go home.”

“Of course, hanum efendi.” It was a girl from the orchestra, carrying a flute. She smiled at Yashim and gestured to a eunuch.

“Valide hanum!” Talfa, wet-faced, picked up the hem of the valide’s shawl and pressed it to her lips and eyes. “Please do not go yet. Everyone is so sad. Won’t you help me make her stay, Yashim?”

“I am tired, Talfa,” the valide announced, crisply. “What was the mother’s name?”

“Pembe, hanum efendi. A Circassian.”

“You will please tell her, when it is appropriate, that I came tonight. And afterward, my child, I expect a visit.”

“Nothing could please me more, valide hanum.” Talfa tittered, wiping her tears away with jeweled fingers. “Shall I bring Necla also?”

The valide’s brow furrowed. “Necla? She is very young.”

“She is eleven, hanum efendi.”

“Bring her by all means,” the valide said, without obvious enthusiasm. “Next week, when I am recovered. Tulin?”

“I am here, valide.”

At the band girl’s signal, two slim black eunuchs bent forward to help the valide to her feet. She flinched impatiently, but at last she was upright between them.

“You, too, Yashim. I expect a visit, soon.”

The harem ladies stood respectfully as the valide walked away, supported on either hand by eunuchs. Tulin, the flautist, hovered around them. Yashim found himself face-to-face with Sultan Mahmut’s widowed sister.

“We miss you in the harem, Yashim.”

Yashim blinked: the resemblance to Mahmut was strong. Poor Talfa. She should have borne a son before her husband died. With only Necla, she had returned to the imperial harem.

She took a lock of her hair and curled it on a pudgy finger.

“I’ve been thinking about the way you live… outside,” she said, in the little high voice of the harem. “I often wonder why that is?”

“It was settled many years ago,” Yashim replied cautiously. “By your noble brother’s wish.”

“Peace be on him,”Talfa said, letting the curl of hair spring free. “Sultan Abdulmecid-I suppose he must have confirmed the arrangement.”

Yashim hesitated. The new sultan had not revoked Yashim’s permission to live outside the palace walls. Nor, on the other hand, had he confirmed it. Yashim guessed that Talfa knew as much.

“I am where I hope I can be most useful, hanum efendi,” he replied. “And in the Abode of Bliss, are you not under the gaze of the all-powerful sultan?”

Talfa turned her head slightly and a dimple appeared on her cheek.

“The sultan has so many cares, Yashim efendi.” She gave him a slanting gaze under her lashes. “It isn’t fair that you should leave it all to him. And you were very good the other day. You could be so useful here, efendi.”

She giggled lightly.

Yashim bowed, and felt his blood run cold.