"Why should I know anything of this?" asked the banker haughtily. "I did not even know the lady."

"Perhaps you do not," conceded the aga, "but I will wager your grandmother does. The lady Incili was a stranger to this land. The only person from the outside she ever had contact with was Esther Kira, and the lady needed outside aid to escape."

"I thought you said she was stolen," said Eli Kira. "Is it not possible that she bribed the eunuchs to aid her? Why do you assume that because my grandmother casually knew this woman she has masterminded a plot? Where is your proof? You are insulting, my lord aga! I shall personally complain to the sultan about your actions!"

Slowly the aga drew from the sleeve of his robe a rolled parchment, which he handed to the banker. "If you will but take the time to glance at this, you will find that it is an order from the sultan giving me permission to take whatever action is necessary in this investigation. The sultan does not want his friend and valuable servant, Cicalazade Pasha, to be unhappy. And believe me, Eli Kira, the vizier will be very unhappy when he finds his favorite wife gone."

Eli Kira looked steadily and directly at the Aga Kislar, and then he turned his gaze on the vizier's grand eunuch. "I know nothing of this affair," he said firmly, "and if you have no tangible proof other than your outrageous suspicions, I must ask you to leave my house."

"No, Eli Kira. I intend questioning other members of your family. At this very moment, on my orders, my janizaries are entering your women's quarters."

"How dare you!" shouted the banker, his face going purple with outrage and anger. And he ran from the room towards the other end of the house, followed at a surprisingly swift pace by the two eunuchs.

They could already hear the shrieks of surprise and terror coming from the Kira harem, and the scene that greeted them was quite satisfying to the aga. He had wanted to instill just this type of fear in the Kira women. Now, as his reptilian gaze swept the room, he knew what tack to take.

Maryam Kira was white-faced and obviously very much frightened. She stood protectively clutching her two younger daughters, Rebecca and Sarah. Her eldest daughter, Debra, stood next to her mother, equally pale. Old Esther Kira was seated in a large chair looking frail but as fierce as a hawk. The room was full of brawny young janizaries, and several of the servant girls had obviously been molested.

Angry, red-faced, and fast becoming frightened, Eli Kira blustered at the aga. "This is the final offense, Ali Ziya! I shall send a messenger immediately to the sultan! You accuse us of some plot, but you offer no proof! You invade the privacy of my home with your soldiers, molest my servants, frighten my women! Show me some proof or get out!"

"Be silent! All of you!" All eyes turned to the old woman in the chair. "What is the problem, Ali Ziya? The Sultan Valide Safiye will not be pleased if I tell her of this unpleasantness."

The Aga Kislar looked to the old woman. Here was the real power behind the Kiras, this tiny, apparently delicate old woman with her all-knowing black-currant eyes. She stared unblinkingly at him, and he shivered. He smiled at her. "What have you done with Cicalazade Pasha's wife, Incili, Esther Kira?"

"What has happened to her, Ali Ziya?"

"I do not know, but I think you do."

"Nonsense! I know not of what you speak."

The aga smiled again, and decided to play his bluff. "Is this all of your family, Eli Kira?" he asked.

"No. There are my sons."

"Fetch them," came the command.

The banker nodded curtly to a servant girl, and several minutes later she returned with four of the boys.

"Is this all?"

"There is Asher, and our cousin John," said Debra innocently.

The aga pounced. "Where is your son, Asher, and who is this cousin?"

"They have gone off on business for the bank, and will not return for some time."

"Where? And who's this John Kira?"

"I sent them to Damascus, and our cousin comes from northern Europe."

"From Cousin Benjamin in Scotland," spoke Debra again.

Eli Kira shot his daughter a fierce look. "Be silent, Debra. You are not to speak unless spoken to. Your manners are too forward for a maiden."

"Ali Ziya!" All eyes turned to Hammid. "Ali Ziya!" The high voice was excited. "The woman Incili came from Scotland! I remember her telling me that when we first received her."

The aga's eyes narrowed. Here was his connection. He swung about and looked at Eli Kira and his sons. "Those two!" He pointed at the two youngest Kira boys. "What are their ages?"

"Thirteen and sixteen," came the reply.

"A good age," came the reply, and then the next words fell like hammer blows. "I will honor your house, Eli Kira. I will accept these two fine young men into the corps of janizaries."

"No!" shrieked Maryam Kira.

The banker's voice was firm, but his heart was beating very fast. "You cannot do that, Ali Ziya. I pay the head tax. My sons are exempt."

"This is an honor I do you, Eli Kira. Your sons enter an elite military unit dedicated to the sultan himself. You cannot refuse my generosity without offending my master. And… I will do your loyal family even further honor." His eyes swung over to where young Debra stood. "I am taking your eldest daughter for my master's harem. Never have I seen such beautiful eyes. Their violet color is quite unique. I am sure that, with the proper training, she will enchant him."

“No!" Eli Kira was shouting now. "The girl is betrothed! She is to be wed in two days!"

"You are wrong, my friend," the aga smiled. "In three nights I will present her to the sultan, and she will enter his bed as his new plaything. Perhaps she will captivate him. If not, she will live out her life in the Palace of Forgotten Women."

Maryam Kira flung herself at the aga's feet. "What is it you seek?" she begged. "I will help you if I can. But do not take my children, I pray you!"

"Maryam!" Eli pulled his groveling wife up.

"Eli! Eli!" She turned a frightened, tear-ravaged face to him. "What have you done? What is so important that you would sacrifice David and Lev? What is so important that you would condemn Debra to a life of loneliness and shame? If you know anything, tell him! In Yahweh's name tell him, I beg you!"

Eli Kira looked desperately towards his grandmother. Years of training now conflicted violently with his paternal feelings. He simply did not know what to do.

Esther Kira sighed. "Clear the room of all but Ali Ziya, Hammid, and my grandson, who ought to be told what this terror is all about. Do not touch any of my great-grandchildren, or you will learn nothing!"

"Take your men and wait in the courtyard. Touch no one and nothing," the aga commanded.

Slowly the room cleared until only the old woman, Eli Kira, and the two eunuchs remained. "Sit! Sit!" commanded Esther Kira. "This is a complicated story." And she settled herself comfortably. They looked expectantly at her. "Do any of you know when I was born?" she asked, and then cackled. "I was born on April first in the Christian year 1490. I am one hundred and nine years old! Now, of what I am about to tell you, my poor bemused grandson knows nothing. Since, however, my"-she stressed the word-"actions have brought difficulties to him, I think he should hear this."

Eli Kira kept his face impassive. There was absolutely nothing that he did not know of his family's business, but he understood what his grandmother was doing. By removing the blame from him, she was trying to save the family. It was a prime example of the first lesson she had ever taught him-survival at any cost. He felt a sudden burst of tenderness and affection for the lady who had built his family's fortune. He wished he might take her in his arms and hug her. Instead he sat quietly, a slightly expectant look on his face.

Good, thought Esther Kira, he understood my tactic. Then she continued. "Your suspicions are correct, Ali Ziya. I did help the woman you call Incili to return to her own people. So would you have, had you known who she was."

"She was a European noblewoman," came Hammid's voice.

"She was a descendant of Cyra Hafise," came back the reply.

"How can that be, old woman?" demanded Ali Ziya. "Cyra Hafise left only her son, Sultan Suleiman, and a daughter who was wed to Ibrahim Pasha. Of the imperial grandchildren, the princes Mustafa and Bajazet were murdered. Prince Janhagir died, Prince Selim became Sultan Selim II, and Princess Mihrmah was wed to Rustem Pasha. The children of Ibrahim Pasha and Princess Nilufer never left this land. Your vast age has finally addled your wits, Esther Kira."

"You are a third my age, Ali Ziya, and my wits are still sharper than yours," came the quick reply. "I was for many years a close friend and confidant of Cyra Hafise. I knew all about her, and her family. She had a brother, the Earl of Glenkirk. Incili is descended from him, and so was her first husband-also an Earl of Glenkirk. Her oldest son is the current earl. Because of the kind intervention of Cyra Hafise, the Kira family has managed the great fortune of the Leslies of Glenkirk for many years.

"I doubt that Incili ever heard of Cyra Hafise, but I almost fainted the first time I saw her. She is the mirror image of my long-dead friend, as Lateefa Sultan is of her ancestress, Firousi Kadin. To see them standing together took me back eighty-five years, and I thought for a moment that I had died and my two friends were coming to greet me."

She paused for a moment to gauge the effect this tale was having on her audience. In her grandson's eyes she caught a hint of admiration. The two eunuchs sat spellbound, and she chuckled within herself. Eunuchs were such children. She continued.