Part 34 (1/2)

FEVZI Pasha rested the tip of the poker against the grate. ”The fire taught me that as long as I had a family, I would never be safe. The Russians might try again, and next time they would use my daughter. So I gave her up.”

Yas.h.i.+m thought back to the horrible doll in Fevzi Ahmet's house.

”The sultan had appointed me to command the fleet, and to build a bridge across the Golden Horn. I had to put her somewhere safe.”

”The sultan's palace,” Yas.h.i.+m murmured.

”I arranged for her to enter the sultan's harem, yes. Only an old eunuch would know who she was. So I thought.”

”Hyacinth?”

”Full marks, Yas.h.i.+m. But then you know the story, don't you? It was me and Hyacinth-until someone told the Russians, after all.”

He was staring at Yas.h.i.+m, but Yas.h.i.+m was aware only of something unlocking in his mind-something about Hyacinth, and the harem, and the dead girls.

”Someone who wished me harm,” Fevzi Ahmet added. ”In the circ.u.mstances, I imagine it was you.”

Yas.h.i.+m blinked. ”Me?”

”'Me'! You can do better than that, Yas.h.i.+m. But I don't have time to listen to your outraged innocence. You wouldn't think it, amba.s.sador, would you?” Fevzi Ahmet called over his shoulder. ”Yas.h.i.+m sold my little girl to your old friends. Quite Galytsin's confidant, I hear.”

”You should have stuck to rowing,” Palewski said glumly.

Fevzi Ahmet's face twitched as he faced Yas.h.i.+m. ”You will bring my daughter here. Hyacinth will find a way.”

”Hyacinth is dead,” Yas.h.i.+m said.

The pasha looked pale. ”It is happening ...” he muttered. He sprang to his feet and went to the door. ”That complicates things-for you. For the sake of your friends, I imagine you can find a way.”

”A way?”

”To get my daughter out of the harem.”

Yas.h.i.+m shook his head. ”I can't just walk out of the sultan's harem with a little girl.”

Fevzi Pasha whistled into the dark, and two men entered the room: caiquejees both, to judge by their swinging gait.

”These men are going to take you to your cellar, amba.s.sador. Marta-is it?-will accompany you. I'm afraid it won't be very comfortable, but it depends on your friend how long you will remain there. Tie them.”

The last words were spoken to the caiquejees. They lifted Palewski's hands and bound them behind his back.

Palewski kept his eyes on Marta, and she on his, even when they tied her hands behind her back. Neither of them spoke.

The door closed behind them. ”I don't know how you plan to get away with it,” Yas.h.i.+m said.

”Interesting, isn't it? Neither of us can tell how the other will lay his plans. I only hope, for your sake, that yours will be as effective as my own.”

”I'm afraid you overestimate my talents,” Yas.h.i.+m said. ”I didn't know you had a daughter.”

”So you say. It doesn't matter, does it? You know now-and your friends downstairs.” He stood up. ”You will bring her here. If not I will kill the amba.s.sador, and his woman. And I will kill you, too.” He paused, and flung back his head. ”For you, however, I actually have a little gift. An incentive, if you like.”

118.

KADRI saw the drawing room door open, and the two caiquejees go in.

He was about to go down and find out what was going on when the door opened again, and the men came out holding candlesticks. Between them came Marta and Palewski. Kadri could see that something was wrong; he checked his impulse to call out, but moved noiselessly down the stairs to the half-landing.

He heard the cellar door open, and close.

Frowning with anxiety, he darted down the second flight of steps and listened by the door.

He recognized Yas.h.i.+m's voice, and another one he didn't know.

119.

”THERE'S nothing I could possibly want that you could ever give me, Fevzi Ahmet.”

The pasha smiled. ”No? Think of your father, Yas.h.i.+m. The governor. Poor old man. He died, I'm told, still trying to find out who brought such dishonor on his family.”

A stubborn look came into Yas.h.i.+m's eyes. ”What do you mean?”

”Well, well. His wife-the lovely Greek girl? Manhandled, shall we say, before they slit her throat? At least she got to see who gelded her only son, before she died. I'm told she was allowed to watch.”

Yas.h.i.+m's lip peeled back.

”The governor's son,” Fevzi Ahmet went on, in the same musing tone. ”Not quite a son, anymore. Very sad, for everyone. And embarra.s.sing for the old man, wasn't it? With all his power, not knowing who. Not knowing why. His wife dishonored and dead, and his son castrated. Who did it? He never found out. Too much grief. Some people said it pushed him into an early grave.”

Yas.h.i.+m closed his eyes. ”I don't care, anymore.”