Istanbul Express by T. Davis Bunn Page A

the others at the entrance gates, and searched. Almost all the faces around them were Turkish.
    Suddenly a smiling face in a blue tour-guide uniform appeared and announced, “Welcome to Topkapi. I am Jana. Come, we must hurry in order to visit the important chambers before the palace closes for the night.”
    As she led them through the main gates and down an ancient cobblestone lane, Jana went on, “The Topkapi Palace was home to sultans for more than six hundred years.”
    â€œI did not come here for a history lesson,” Jasmyn murmured.
    The guide gave no sign of hearing. “Come, we must inspect the treasury.”
    â€œI have no—”
    A hand fastened upon her arm. “Come, I said.”
    They entered the inner courtyard, passed between thehulking guards, and entered a low-ceilinged dungeon full of museum-style display cases. Despite their impatience, the first case drew an appreciative gasp.
    â€œYes, there, now this is better,” the young woman said quietly. “Just another pair of Western tourists viewing some of Istanbul’s many treasures.” When a group moved up alongside, the woman’s voice became brisk. “This eighty-six carat diamond is the fifth largest in the world. And the gold sheath beyond it contains the Topkapi dagger, handled only by the ruling sultan. The largest of those three emeralds you see there at the crest is hollowed out and opens to reveal a watch inside.”
    Sally waited until they had moved away from the tourists, then demanded quietly, “Why are we here?”
    â€œLook, see here, one throne after another, all covered with gold and studded with precious stones. There is a saying that here in this one room is enough gold to make copper seem rare.”
    â€œIf we were not going to be able to talk,” Jasmyn insisted, “why did you ask us to come?”
    â€œBecause you are being followed and closely watched,” the woman said, swinging around. “Now, please, for all our sakes, play the politely interested tourist.
    â€œYou have to remember, of course,” the woman went on more loudly, “that a fifth of all the spoils of war were the sultans’ due. And the Ottomans won many wars. They conquered and ruled all of Greece, much of Eastern Europe, all of North Africa, Egypt, and the Middle East.” She pointed toward the stairs rising from the chamber’s far end. “Come, we must visit the harem.”
    They allowed themselves to be led up a winding set of steep stone stairs. Just as Sally’s head rose above the treasure vaults, she glanced back to see who if anyone was watching her way.
    â€œDon’t turn around, that’s a good dear,” the woman hummed lightly, her words swiftly lost to tight echoes and the scraping of their shoes.
    â€œI wonder if anyone is actually following us at all,” Jasmyn whispered back.
    The woman waited until they had reached the rise and entered a grandly decorated chamber to say, “Let us hope you never have to meet them face-to-face.” Then, as others crowded in behind them, she steered them over to one corner and continued in a louder voice, “This grand chamber was the central parlor of the harem, the forbidden court of the imperial wives and their children. It was guarded over by eunuchs and elder women, their lives as shrouded in mystery then as now.”
    Sally glanced about the lofty hall, with its rose-marble pillars, its gleaming balustrades and chandeliers and deep covering of carpets. “It looks like a gilded cage.”
    â€œAnd indeed it was. It was often a lonely and degrading existence, especially for those out of favor with the sultan or the senior wives. These rooms harbored intrigue and vicious conflict, the women vying to become the power behind the throne. At the peak of Ottoman rule, these chambers were home to more than a thousand women.”
    â€œSo sad,” Jasmyn murmured.
    â€œCome.” The