He had last seen Zanthe and her husband at the first reception Napoleon had given in the Tuileries after being elected First Consul. That they were then in Paris was due to Achilles Sarodopulous' having been sent by his father to open a branch of the family bank in the French capital. In view of his past relations with Zanthe, Roger had thought it only fair to Achilles who, while he was in Egypt had proved a good friend to him, to refrain from seeking them out on his subsequent visits to Paris—much as he would have liked to see Zanthe's little son of whom he knew himself to be the father; but, as far as he was aware, they were still in Paris.
If so, it was most unlikely that Zanthe had made the long journey to Constantinople to see her mother and told her all that had befallen her in Egypt. There was, too, the fact that having renounced Islam and become a Christian of the Orthodox Greek Church, in order to marry Achilles, Zanthc had raised another bar between herself and her family.
But there remained the possibility that mother and daughter continued to correspond. If so, Zanthe might have given her mother an account of the months she had spent in Egypt and Syria. Roger endeavoured to still his uneasiness by the thought that, if she had, she would not have revealed in a letter the fact that she had been the mistress of a French officer. But of that he could not be certain, and this doubt now became uppermost in his mind.
He was not given to panicking, but for a moment he felt that, in seeking an audience with the Sultan Valide, he had taken an absurd risk to achieve what, at best, could prove only a gain of no great importance. But it was now too late to turn back; so he continued to follow the ponderous footsteps of the Chief of the White Eunuchs and, by a great effort of will, forced himself to recall instead all he had heard from Zanthe and, more recently, Achmet about the Seraglio.
It was not, as most people believed, simply a rambling palace consisting of many buildings in which the Sultan maintained several hundred women for his pleasure. On the contrary, it housed twenty thousand people, two-thirds of whom were troops, and over a thousand cooks. The Haremlik, as it was properly called, was a comparatively small part of it.
By far the greater number of buildings formed the Seldmlik, which was occupied by the guards, eunuchs, ministers and other functionaries, artists, artisans, dwarfs and jugglers. It contained a big military school, over a dozen mosques, ten kitchens, two hospitals, many Turkish baths, several swimming pools, store-rooms, sports fields, a library in which were a quarter of a million manuscripts, prisons, treasuries, stabling for three thousand horses and a score of workshops in which hundreds of men were constantly employed as goldsmiths, weavers, engravers, tile-makers, swordsmiths, upholsterers, potters, carpenters, and in a dozen other crafts.
All these people in the Seldmlik worked under the supervision of the White Eunuchs, while the Black Eunuchs were entrusted with the guardianship of the women's quarters.
The great majority of the women lived in a big building, having three floors, and a wide, central corridor overlooked from balconies on the two upper floors. Each odalisque had a chamber to herself; so in that, it was not unlikely a nunnery, except that instead of austere cells, the rooms were luxuriously furnished. The Kadins and temporary favourites had separate suites, with even richer furnishings, and all enjoyed the use of spacious gardens, the many pavilions in them, numerous baths, ball-courts and the terraces from which there was a lovely view over the Sea of Marmora.
Roger brought his mind back with a jerk from these deliberate musings on all he had heard* of the Topkapi Palace, for they had reached the Gate of Felicity, which gave entrance to the Third Court. This was guarded by both White and Black Eunuchs, and the Kapi Aga said in his high-pitched voice to a huge Negro, 'This is the Greek merchant of whom I spoke to you yesterday.' Then, without a glance at Roger, he waddled away.
The Negro was richly dressed in an ermine pelisse, jewelled ear-rings dangled from the lobes of his cars and there were several valuable rings on his big fingers. It was obvious to Roger that he was a person of importance and, in fact, he proved to be Son Altesse Noire, the Kizler Aga, Chief of the Black Eunuchs. Making low obeisance, Roger contrived to drop the silk net purse containing the twenty-five gold pieces. Quickly he picked it up and handed it to the Negro, as though it was he who had dropped it. Two rows of pearly white teeth appeared between the black man's red lips as he smiled with amusement at this subtle way of giving him his bribe. 'All is arranged,' he said in a little, reedy voice. 'Come with me.'
Passing through the Gate of Felicity, they entered the Third Court. Facing the gate and only a few yards from it there was a magnificent pavilion, in the centre of which, raised on legs, there stood an eight-foot-long and four-feet-deep gold divan, flashing with precious stones. Casually waving a hand towards it, the eunuch said, 'The throne upon which the Commander of the Faithful, Allah's Shadow on Earth, gives audience to distinguished visitors. It was made from eighty thousand gold ducats captured from the Venetians. He has another studded with twenty-five thousand pearls.'
Turning left, they walked some way across the court, then entered a maze of narrow passages. On coming to one that was broader than the others, the big Negro, who evidently took pleasure in showing his domain to those privileged to enter it, said, 'This is the Golden Road. Along it, faint from exaltation, are carried such odalisques as our Imperial master has deigned to cast his handkerchief to, signifying that he desires them to be brought to his bed.'
Through an archway on the far side of the Golden Road, they came to a spacious courtyard, lined with orange, apricot and pomegranate trees growing in large tubs. Crossing it to a low doorway, the eunuch told Roger to wait there, then went in.
Two minutes later he emerged, and bowed. 'Her Sublimity the Veiled Crown, consents to receive you.' Roger returned the bow and, his heart beating a little faster, walked through the low porch.
Beyond it there was a small hall then, behind a heavy curtain that the eunuch held aside, a big room, the sight of which caused Roger to catch his breath in amazement. It was no Eastern reception room with divans round the walls, silk Persian mats of fine design, and small, ebony tables inlaid with ivory. He might have stepped back twenty years in time, to find himself again in one of the smaller salons at Versailles.
The furniture was Louis XVI, the carpet Aubusson, the satinwood cabinets filled with Meissen and Sevres porcelain, while on the walls hung charming paintings by Bouchard Fragonard and Vige le Brun.
At the far end of the room there were two women, and there could be no mistaking the one who had created this oasis of a bygone France in the heart of an Eastern harem. She was, Roger knew, forty-three years old, but did not look it. The veil she wore looped from ear to ear was so diaphanous that through it Roger could discern her lower features: a rosebud mouth above a firm chin. Her face was a little on the plump side, her blue eyes enormous, and golden hair on which she wore a little, round pillbox hat, swept back from her fine forehead. Here and there, among her golden tresses, sparkled diamonds, dangling from almost invisible tiny gold chains. It was no cause for wonder that, on entering the harem, instead of being given the name of Jasmine, Sweet-breath, Pearl of the Dawn or some such soubriquet, she had become known simply as Naksh—the Beautiful One.