Chapter 16 #2
“Dearest brother,” she said, “you must not grieve for me any longer. Please, oh please, tell me that you understand, Marco. It pains me to think you will go and not comprehend. What can I do to make you see?”
He had shocked himself with the emotions that had overcome him so suddenly.
He had not cried since he was a small boy.
Men did not weep like maidens or old women.
And then, as the sound of her gentle voice calmed him, he came to realize that she had truly forgiven him, if indeed she had once held him responsible for her unhappiness.
Her warm embrace soothed him. He gathered himself once again, easing himself from her arms. “I understand, Bianca,” he told her.
“How can I not when I see you filled with such happiness and peace?”
She smiled at him, her delicate fingers brushing away the evidence of his sorrow. “I am glad then, and I can send you home without the burden of your unnecessary guilt, Marco. Give my love to Francesca, and tell her of my happiness. I will pray that she finds hers. And the others too.”
“You still pray to our God?” He had thought she would be forbidden to do so and be forced to pray to the deity of the infidels.
“Of course I pray to God,” she said, almost laughing. “Amir promised I should not be forced to give up my faith. I have no priest, it is true, but I know God hears my prayers even without one.”
He nodded, then said, “I did not ask you before, Bianca, but do you have any children? I would tell our father, who will gladly receive news of you, even if others will not.” They both knew he referred to their mother.
“No, but I hope to one day. Maysun and Shahdi are sterile, for it is not wise for Ottoman princes to have too many children, especially sons. Sons pose a danger to the sultan, to his heir, and to their family.”
“So that is why Prince Amir lived in Florence,” Marco said, fascinated.
“He told me when you are the sultan’s grandson, it is better to be a merchant than a warrior. His father even now quarrels with his brother, Sultan Bayezit.”
“Does that not put you in danger?” Marco asked, concerned.
“No,” Azura told him. “Amir has always been loyal to the sultan, whoever he may be. He does not involve himself in politics. His uncle knows he will not rebel, even for his father’s sake.
We are told that the prince, Jem, now resides on the island of Rhodes under the protection of the Knights Hospitaliers. ”
“I know little of politics except when it should affect the silk trade,” Marco told her.
“I came to Bursa because it is there that the Silk Road ends, and I wished to speak with some of that city’s merchants.
I have found a new source of particularly fine silk and silk brocade that will please our father greatly.
The robe you wear is exquisite. With material like that, the Pietro d’Angelos could corner the trade in silk. ”
She laughed. “You are Father’s true son, Marco. I know he is proud of you.”
“He does not say it if he is,” Marco grumbled, helping himself now to one of the small honeyed nut confections that was still left upon the plate.
They spent another hour or so in comfortable brotherly-sisterly companionship. The concerns between them were now settled. Azura knew she must be the one to end the afternoon. Finally she forced herself to rise, and he rose too.
“You must go, Marco,” she told him. “I am glad you came. It is unlikely we will see each other again in this life, Brother.”
“I know,” he admitted, “but I am relieved to see how happy you are, Bianca, and I am grateful for your forgiveness.”
The two siblings embraced, and then Azura escorted him from the salon, surprised to see Amir awaiting them outside.
“My lord?” she said.
“I will escort your brother back to the beach, beloved,” he told her.
She gave a little nod of her head. “You are most gracious, my lord.” Then she turned to her brother a final time. “Farewell, Marco. Remember my words, and go with God in your travels.” Then kissing him on both cheeks, she turned and hurried off down a corridor and out of his sight.
“Come!” Amir said to his guest.
“I am grateful that you allowed me to see Bianca,” Marco said as they exited the little palace and began the climb down the steep path to the shoreline. “She has put my mind at ease, and forgiven me for past wrongs.”
“I am glad, but you cannot come again,” Amir told him. “It was not easy for Azura to leave all that was familiar to her, but she did it for my sake. I can but hope a woman will one day love you that much, Marco Pietro d’Angelo.”
“It was difficult for me as well,” Marco told his companion, refusing to be bullied even a little by this prince.
“She is my sister, the closest to me in age of all our siblings. I should not upset her willingly. If it be your will, my lord, that we not see each other again, then I accept it. My sister has already told me most firmly the same thing,” he concluded with a small smile.
Amir barked a sharp laugh. “Did she? Did she indeed? Ah, what a wonderful female creature she is.” His handsome face relaxed now as the threat of Azura’s family began to fade away.
They reached the beach, where a little boat was waiting to take the young silk merchant back to the anchored vessel.
“The captain has been given orders to set sail immediately,” the prince told his guest. “His destination is Istanbul. You will find a ship there to take you home.” He held out his hand to Marco.
“I greeted you in peace, brother of my wife. I now bid you farewell. Go in peace and with my friendship.”
Marco took the prince’s hand and shook it.
“Thank you, my lord,” he told him. “I can see that you have treated my sister well. I cannot deny her love for you. I offer you my friendship, signore.” Then he waded out to the small craft, and climbed into it.
He turned with a smile and gave Amir a friendly wave.
Then Marco Pietro d’Angelo faced the sea again.
The prince watched as the little boat was swiftly rowed out to the large ship.
By the time the prince had climbed back up to the palace gardens his vessel was already under way, sailing from the small cove that served the Moonlight Serai and headed for the Bosphorus.
He reentered his home and went directly to the harem.
There he found Azura as he had expected he would, standing by a window watching too.
Hearing his entry, she turned, smiling. “He did not come for my family’s sake. He came for his own. I have relieved his poor burdened conscience,” and she went on to explain her conversation that afternoon with her brother.
“Are you saddened to see him go knowing you are unlikely to meet again?” he asked her.
“No. My life is here with you,” Azura told him, smiling to herself as she spoke.
Men! Why was it that they always seemed to need reassurance from those they loved or cared for?
she wondered. Then she looked into his deep blue eyes and said, “I want a child, Amir. A child of our love for each other. Maysun and Shahdi would like me to have a child too, for the harem is lonely without the laughter of children.”
“You know the dangers, beloved,” he reminded her.
“My uncle could at any time turn on me because of my father. Remember that he has three living sons of his own. If our child were a male, it could present a danger to us all, but to you in particular. Besides, there has been no sign of a child in all the time we have been together.”
“Because Nadim mixes a potion each morning that Agata presents to me as a strengthening drink. I am not supposed to know it is to prevent conception. There is no harm in it, so I drink it down quite dutifully,” Azura told him with a small laugh.
“I should have them both beaten!” Amir exclaimed, feigning anger.
She laughed again. “They protect us by their actions,” she told him.
“A child,” he said slowly. “I had not thought to have a child, especially when you did not seem to prove fertile. A daughter who favored her mother would be a joy. Still, it is a serious chance that you contemplate, beloved.”
Amir knew his uncle well. Bayezit was a patient man, but he was also unafraid to act in his best interests, as his race to reach Istanbul when Sultan Mehmet died had proved.
He had been at a farther distance than his brother, and yet he had gotten to the capital first, where he had promised the Janissaries what they wanted and paid the right bribes so that his brother had no chance at all of gaining the throne.
Bayezit would not hesitate to have an infant slain if he felt the child was a future danger to his throne.
And how would Azura feel having her newborn torn from her arms and smothered? Could he subject her to that?
Still, if they dared it, a child would bring their house such joy.
And it could as easily be a daughter as a son.
A daughter who one day could be used to the sultan’s best advantage in an important marriage alliance.
An Ottoman princess would please his uncle.
Of all Amir’s cousins, he suspected that the youngest of the sultan’s sons, Selim, would be the one to father a large family.
Ahmed, despite Bayezit’s favor, preferred gambling, drinking forbidden wines, and pretty page boys.
Korkut was a serious scholar interested only in his studies.
But Selim was much like Bayezit himself.
Selim would take the throne one day, outsmarting his brothers as his father had, and it would be Selim’s family that would prevail.