Виктория Холт - The Captive

She replied that she had been in the harem for seven years. She was Creole and had come from Martinique to go to school in France. On the way she, too, had been shipwrecked and taken by corsairs, brought here and sold, just as I had been.

“You have been here all those years?” I said.

“How have you endured it?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“At first,” she said, ‘there is great fear. I was only sixteen years old. I hated the convent. It was easy here. I liked the clothes . the idle life, I suppose. And . I was different. as you are. The Pasha liked me. “

“You were the favourite of the harem, I believe,” I said.

She nodded.

“Because,” she said, “I have Samir.”

I had seen Samir a beautiful child of about four years old. He was made much of by the women. He was the eldest of the harem children.

There was one other Feisal, who was about a year younger and also a very attractive boy. I had seen him with a woman, a few years younger, I imagined, than Nicole. Her name was Fatima.

Fatima was a voluptuous beauty with masses of black hair and languid dark eyes. She was self-indulgent in the extreme, indolent and vain.

She would sit by the pool for hours, eating sweetmeats and feeding them to one of the little King Charles spaniels who were her constant companions Fatima cared passionately for four beings herself, Feisal and her two little dogs.

Both the boys were taken away at times and there was a great deal of preparation then. They went to see the Pasha. There were two other little boys in the harem but they were as yet only babies. There were no girls. At first I wondered why it was that all the Pasha’s children were boys.

Nicole was very informative. She told me that if a woman gave birth to a girl child she went away, to her family perhaps. The Pasha was not interested in daughters, only sons; and if a woman gave birth to a son who was beautiful and intelligent such as Samir she was in high favour.

Samir, being the eldest, would be the Pasha’s heir. That was why the other women were jealous of her. She had first been set above them by the Pasha’s preference but that could be fleeting whereas Samir was always there, a reminder to the Pasha that he could beget fine boys; and he favoured the women who helped him prove this.

She told me that she had secretly taught Samir French and when the Pasha had discovered this she had been terrified of what he would do.

But she had heard through the Chief Eunuch that he was pleased that the boy should learn as much as he could and she might continue teaching him.

It surprised me that a woman of the Western world could so adjust herself to this way of life and that she could be proud of her position and intensely hate anyone who tried to snatch it from her.

But how pleased I was to be able to talk to her and discover something of those around me.

I learned of the tremendous rivalry between her and Fatima who had great ambitions for her son Feisal.

“You see,” said Nicole, ‘but for Samir, Feisal would be the Pasha’s heir and she would be First Lady. She wants very much to take my place. “

“She will never do that. You are more beautiful and much cleverer.

Moreover, Samir is a wonderful boy. “

“Feisal is not bad,” she admitted.

“And if I were to die …”

“Why should you die?”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Fatima is a very jealous woman. Once, long ago, one of the women poisoned another. It would not be difficult.”

“She would not dare.”

“One woman dared.”

“But she was discovered.”

“It was long ago. Before the Pasha’s day, but they still talk about it. They took her out. They buried her up to her neck in the grounds out there. They left her in the sun … to die. It was her punishment.”

I shivered.

“I would wish the same for Fatima if she harmed my son.”

“You must make sure that she does not.”

“It is what I intend to do.”

Life was easier now that I had made contact with Nicole.

There were our beautiful clothes, our scents, our unguents, our sweetmeats, our lazy days; we were like birds of paradise in cages.

After the hardships I had suffered this was a strange life to come to.

I wondered how long it would go on.

The Pasha was away-news which delighted me.

A lethargy fell upon the harem. They lay about, dreamily admiring themselves in hand mirrors which they carried in the pockets of their capacious trousers, nibbling their sweetmeats, singing or playing their little musical instruments, quarrelling together.

Two of them quarrelled very fiercely, rolling on the mosaic floor, tugging at each other’s hair and kicking wildly until Rani came and beat them both, sent them off in disgrace and said they would not have a chance with the Pasha for three months. That soon sobered them.

Then he returned and there was great excitement. They all became docile and eager to please, displaying their charms, although there were only their companions and the occasional eunuch to see them.

Rani selected her six. I saw her eyes rest on me, and horror was replaced by relief when I realized that she considered me still not ripe for the great honour.

The six girls were selected two who had been before and found special favour, and four novices.

We all watched them being prepared. They were bathed first, their skins anointed, and scent rubbed into their hair. Henna was applied to the soles of their feet and the palms of their hands. Their lips were reddened with beeswax and their eyes made large with kohl. Flowers were set in their hair, bracelets on their wrists and ankles before they were dressed in sequinned garments.

We all waited to see who would be sent back.

It was one of the youngest who was chosen on that occasion.

“She will give herself airs when she returns,” Nicole said to me.

“They always do … particularly the young ones. I thought it might be your turn.”

I must have betrayed my revulsion, for she said: “You do not want?”

“I wish with all my heart that I could get away.”

“If he saw you … you would be the one.”

“I … no … no …”

“It will come. Perhaps soon …”

“I would do anything … anything to escape.”

She was thoughtful.

Nicole told me that if one was to receive those little privileges which were such a part of harem life, one must be on good terms with two people. One was Rani, of course; the other was the Chief Eunuch.

“He is the important one. He is the Pasha of the Harem. I have made him a very good friend of mine.”

“I can see you are very wise.”

“So long I have been here. It is the only home I know.”

“And you are reconciled to all this … to being one of many?”

“It is the way of life here,” she replied.

“Samir is my son. He will be Pasha one day. I shall be the Pasha’s mother and that is a very honourable state, I can tell you.”

“Would you not like a normal marriage … a husband and children … not all the time wondering if someone will replace you?”

“I have always known this.” She waved her arms, indicating the harem.

“It is so with all of them here. They know nothing else. They want to be the Pasha’s favourite. They want to have a son who surpasses all others … and makes

for his mother the grand position from which none can shake her. “

“Can that be?”

“It can be.”

“And that is your ambition?”

“My ambition is in Samir. Tell me of your ambition.”

“To get away from here. To get back to my home … to my own people.

To find those who were with me when I was shipwrecked. “

“It is almost certain that you will be the chosen of the Pasha. When Rani thinks you are ready, she will send you to him. He will like you because you are different. He must be tired of these dark-skinned beauties. You are something quite new. If you have a son … your future is made.”