The Isle of Princes.

Table of contents :
BOOK ONE - The Strangers......Page 7
BOOK TWO - The Island......Page 16
BOOK THREE - The Exiles......Page 234

Citation preview

Hasan Ozbekhan

Simon and Schuster 1 957

New York

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED INCLUDING THE RIGHT OF REPRODUCTION IN WHOLE OR IN PART IN ANY FORM

@ 1957

BY HASAN OZBEKHAN

PUBLISHED BY SIMON AND SCHUSTER, INC. ROCKEFELLER CENTER,

630

FIFTH AVENUE

NEW YORK 20, N. Y. FIRST PRINTING

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NUMBER:

57-6230

MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA BY H. WOLFF BOOK MFG. CO., INC., N.Y.

To the memory of R.A.

"You see that Caesar hath procured us a profound peace.,, -EPICTETUS

CONTENTS

BOOK ONE

The Strangers

I

BOOK TWO

The Island

9

BOOK THREE

The Exiles

227

For a note on the pronunciation of Turkish words, etc., see page 233.

BOOK ONE

The Strangers

Two young girls dressed in black were playing in the garden below while everything-even the trees which stood erect and attentive to winds-was stilled. Colors were subdued in this early afternoon at the hour the sun strikes and strikes again in waves, and no bird flies, and the heat drenches life with silence. From the high balcony where he and Refet were having their siesta, Davud saw the ferry, crowned with white smoke, go toward BU:rgaz, the farthest of the islands. A sudden restlessness was born in him, as· if the coming of that boat would cause an awakening-and awakening an end. He looked back toward the gardens where, beyond rolling lawns, the two girls played. He thought, If anyone speaks now, if one of those girls shouts, this silent universe which ;

3

THE ISLE OF PRINCES

protects me, this moment that I inhabit in complete happiness, will explode and there will be nothing I can do to keep it from being destroyed forever. Then Refet said something. He whispered softly as if he thought Davud asleep, wide-open eyes notwithstanding. He asked, "Are they the new occupants of the Selamlik ?" Nothing changed. But that was because Ref et was his cousin and, like Davud, belonged to this sunny silence. Nothing could be disrupted because of Refet. The moment continued in all its incandescence. "Yes." Their grandfather had built the Selamlik when he was a young man. A charming pavilion framed by pine and orange trees, it stood about a half mile from the big house on the shore edge of the estate. The main driveway, after making a long arc in front of the house, meandered toward it through rose gardens and orchards. Now it had been let to strangers. "Black as though in mourning," Ref et murmured. "They're orphans come here to live with their aunt." The taller of the girls was standing on one leg, prepared for a jump forward. In the study which opened on the balcony Professor Zeki Zekeriya blew his nose long and loud to indicate that he was awake. As if this had been a cue the ferry, emerging from the northern bourn of Heybeli Island, shrieked into the afternoon. Ref et and Da vud went in for their lesson. Now there were noises coming from the kitchens, and shutters were being opened on the face of the house. The gardens were awake with the chirps and eyes of birds. But, like a black crane, the taller girl remained perched on one 4

The Strangers

leg and did not move; it was as if she had met an insoluble problem. The moment, which Davud had failed to preserve, passed. The sun had begun to descend toward the horizon when the taller girl stopped, in exactly the same position as before, at seeing two rriounted boys emerge from the shadows of the surrounding trees. She stopped and watched them approach slowly, dismount a few paces away, and sit on the grass at the feet of their horses. For a while the boys just looked at the girls; then one of them said, "Go ahead, little girls, go on with your game." But the girls did not go on playing. The younger one came near her taller sister and took her hand, and they just stood -there. "What are your names?" the other boy asked. He spoke softly and his voice was very gentle. This made the older girl feel better, but neither she nor her sister answered. "I think we frighten them," the first youth said. "They're orphans. Poor little orphans," the other said quietly. There was the sound of a shrill whistle from the woods and immediately afterward a new boy, followed by many others, burst into the clearing. All of them carried slings in their hands. They looked fierce. They stopped a little behind the horses but their leader came forward and stood over the two boys. There were no greetings, no smiles, no recognition. "Who are they?" he asked. "Two little orphans." "Have they come from the Mainland?" "They didn't drop from the sky." 5

THE ISLE OF PRINCES

It was the first boy who spoke like this. The other, the one with the gentle voice, did not say a word. He just kept gazing at the girls. "I don't want them here," the newcomer said. "This is my territory. I don't want any strangers on it." "They're orphans," the first boy repeated. "I don't care." "Yes, but they've come to live here." The two sisters stood in front of them, and as close as they could get to each other, but now they were not looking at the boys. They were looking at their feet. "I shall-" the newcomer began. He could not finish his sentence, for the first boy had got up, saying, "You shall do nothing at all. Leave them alone." There was a curious ring of authority in his voice. "Listen, Davud, two years ago it was Togrul Meral and now it's these girls. I won't have it. When Togrul's parents bought the Nizam House you told us to leave him in peace because he was alone and helpless. He's neither now; he got himself a troop from the north and they're roaming your lands at will." "Togrul Meral isn't sufficiently important for me to fight him." "I've had enough of strangers. I don't want these girls here. I'll drive them out." The boy whom he had called Davud laughed. "Let's see you do it." "It is war, then." The fierce leader had spoken these words with something akin to sadness. Davud did not answer. He was watching the other's followers take a few steps forward. 6

The Strangers

"Fighting against your own blood for the sake of strangers.'' "For the sake of orphans," Davud said quietly. The other said, "Tonight, after dinner, we will hold the war council, at the monastery." He really did look as though he were wholly committed to a violent purpose. "We'll be there." The troop of fierce boys left, but they did not take away with them the terrible fear they had brought into the clearing. "In a way Kasim is right," the boy with the gentle voice muttered after a few moments of silence. "But, of course, you're right too." He sighed. "I wonder if we'll be able to get together a strong enough troop, in these circumstances." ~ "Never mind," Davud said. "I can beat them even if we end up one against ten. Remember, I'm the best commander this family has produced since your father was killed. Sergeant Mehmet said so." He seemed to be in a great good hun1or. "It'll be a nice war. I need a nice war; I'm getting stale." They looked at the girls and laughed. "Don't be frightened; we'll protect you. Go ahead and play." "At least tell us your names." This time the taller girl answered. "My name is Belkis Tuli," she said, "and my sister's name is N ermin." "Why are you wearing those dark clothes? Are you in mourning? Turks never wear black for mourning." "These are our winter clothes," the girl said. "Good heavens I You'll die in this ·heat." "We haven't got any summer clothing. Aunt Adile told us that we wouldn't be able to get any until next year," the girl said. She blushed. 7

THE ISLE OF PRINCES

There was a moment of embarrassed silence. "Anyway, you have nothing to fear," Davud told them finally. "We won't let those ruffians persecute you. Besides, even the war is only a game."

8

BOOK TWO

The Island

One

From the single window of his office Davud could see most of Istanbul. Converging promontories, covered with houses and topped by mosques, were welded into an immense city which was also made of tramways, boats, cars, and men bent under abnormal burdens. Stone, wood, sea, and people had grown together, they had suffered for one another and through one another-and that was visible too. Both shores of the Bosporus had once been lined by an uninterrupted succession of marble palaces set amid immense gardens in which roses and tulips alternated with the seasons. But the palaces were gone, the gardens had been overrun by warehouselike structures and coal dumps more in keeping with the progressive temper of the times. Now, monstrous machines were building blocks of modern apartII

THE ISLE OF PRINCES

ments as quickly as other monstrous machines ripped open and pulled down the old dwellings. Drowsily, Davud looked at Pera, then at Kadikoy across the water, and, finally, at what had been Byzantium. The Second Rome. The Last Rome. The sea tore the city apart, but the silence held it together. Usually foreigners thought Istanbul a noisy place, yet the silence stretched over it like a climate and held it together. One had to be a Turk to hear the silence. He was falling asleep. Turks ate too much at lunch. The buzzer sounded. Slowly Davud went to his employer's office, where, deepset under reddish brows, eyes of undecipherable intent were awaiting him. "How's everything, young man?" Davud just nodded and sat down. He watched Malini with ill-concealed distaste. After five months of daily contact he still had not succeeded in growing to like him. The man's appearance was ordinary to the point of being blurred, but this fact alone could not account for the disagreeable impression he made the first time one saw him. An impression which, curiously, he was able to reinforce upon closer acquaintance. . "Are we making any money?" This, and the first question too, formed the ceremonial part of their conversations. The queries required no answer and stemmed, Davud was sure, from the many things about tycoons which Malini had misunderstood in American . movies. "Five months," Malini now said. "Five months and no progress. I am worried." As soon as he said these words he turned his eyes from Davud, discovered a spot .on his right sleeve, and began to I2

The Island

scratch it with his fingernail. "Do you think your uncle will ever come through?'' Davud remained silent. ''Your uncle is no businessman. Were he one, we could have all the government orders we wanted." Not a muscle moved in his face: it was as if he had trained his features never to fall into a recognizable expression that could allow a listener to evaluate his true thoughts. "To associate oneself with amateurs is dangerous in our business. I'm fully aware of that. However, I have no choice in the matter: your uncle is in the Government, he has an excellent name and very good contacts. We need him, but "te must get him to do what we want. Take this arms deal : it is extremely big and-" - Davud asked, "May I smoke?" "Of course," the other said impatiently, then continued, "but your uncle has no business sense. I want you to watch him and push him,'' Obviously, the interruption had caused Malini to come to the point more quickly than he had originally intended. He obliterated whatever it was that had marred his sleeve and looked up. "You're no businessman either. You have brains, though. I hope you don't mind my speaking frankly. Therefore, I must repeat: watch and harry that uncle of yours. Besides, that's why you were-" He stopped himself abruptly. "Hired?" Davud asked. "Yes. Frankness is imperative between business associates. You don't mind my speaking like this, do you?" "No." "That's what I like about you, young man. Despite your age and your background you are a realist, able to accept life as it is." 13

THE ISLE OF PRINCES

"ls life really like this?" Malini chose not to answer the question. He simply went on. "You'll go far. Now, I want you to call your uncle. Tell him the arms deal has got to start rolling. I won't wait for . . ever. Tell him he promised. Now go, and let's start making some money." When Davud returned to his office he went directly to the window and looked at the city stretched unequally over the heaving landscape. Suddenly he felt he could not stand it. He turned his back to it. Istanbul induced immense daydreams, and life was no daydream-it was anger. He regained his anger simply by remembering where he was. His first taste of reality was not turning out to his liking, after all. One day, five months earlier, his maternal uncle Azmi Kantemir ( the one whom everybody in the office now called Uncle) had taken him aside, saying, "And what are you going to do now, my fine gentleman?" It had annoyed Davud not to be able to answer that question. "Zeki Zekeriya assures me that your studies have been successfully terminated. I suppose he means he has taught you everything he knows, poor man. I have not heard you mention any plans about further education of a formal type. Are you just going to sit here and let things happen?" Davud had hardly ever thought about such matters. I..1ife on the Island had a rhythm peculiar to itself ,vhich tended to abolish the future. "This magnificent dream in which you are steeped is any.. thing but eternal," Azmi Kantemir had continued. "It will end the day your grandfather dies, and seeing that he is over ninety ,ve must assume this sad event will be upon us before long. I hate to see a young man like you thro,vn into a world 14

The Island

he did not make and about which he knows nothing. Speak l You're making me impatient." "\Vhat do you want me to do?" Davud had asked. He had already realized that his uncle had a plan. "I'd like you to start acting like a man. Aren't you worried, restless, eager to achieve something? Don't you want to conquer the world?" No, at that time Davud had not thought of conquering the world. Life on the Island had an exclusive finality about it. He was happy. As far as he was concerned, childhood was continuing. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do," he had said. His uncle ,vas now on notice that the purpose of this whole conversation had been discovered, and that he must come to the point. "I want you to take a job in Istanbul." "In Istanbul?" "I know, I know," Azmi Kanternir had said. "Istanbul is forbidden territory. For the last fifteen years it has lived and prospered under rebel rule. I know all the arguments which have currency in your exalted grandfather's lands. The Republic is an illegal institution. I know that too. And that's why I don't tell you to take a job with the Government. That would hasten your ancestor)s death. But, Davud, my dear child, you cannot go on living like this. You have to grow up." They had looked at each other, and Davud had understood that his uncle wanted to ask him a favor. Of course, he would never put it that way because that would be against the traditions of the family. An uncle never asked a favor from a nephew-at best, he gave an order. "What kind of job have you in mind?" Davud had inquired. 15

THE ISLE OF PRINCES

Azmi Kantemir' s reaction had been true to established form. "Stop bothering me. All I'm trying to do is to round out your education. Life is a cold bath; you must get used to it. And I don't want you to ask me questions. In a few days I shall take you to see a man in whose office I want you to work. You'll be making some money. You'll see what life is about. Don't forget: it's a favor I'm doing you. Well that's settled. Be ready and make sure that your grandfather doesn't hear of it. No buts-please don't make me angry. It's too nice an afternoon for that . . . ." And as a result of that conversation Davud had entered the strange world of Mr. Malini. He did not find it pleasant. His employer's personality possessed complexity without charm. The work was confusing and his responsibilities illdefined. The office looked miserable. Signs of long-lasting ulcers which affect cement and brick oozed from its walls. Paint was peeling off the woodwork; the floor boards creaked and moaned; the carpet was threadbare. Davud shuddered. The door opened and a small, fat, bald, and nearsighted man tiptoed in, saying, "I come for some little gossip to relieve the universal boredom from which I terribly suffering am." It was Dr. Erasmus Lincoln Freilicher, the firm's accountant. "Leave that door open," he said, sitting down, "so that we can see the danger should Malini come out, and I can escape before he accuses me of robbing him with my incurable idleness." Da vud had taken an immediate liking to this German refugee who, during their very first conversation, had described his duties as "most complicated and disagreeable, 16

The Island

and exclusively dedicated to the protection of Malini's fortune." "Have you too been exposed to the ill humor from which our great company-Fiihrer suffering is?" Dr. Freilicher asked now. "It's that arms deal, so mysterious to us and so clear to him. From the little he has told me I would be happy if it never came through." "Why?" 1'he protector of Malini's fortune was slowly cleaning his spectacles. "It is just a feeling that I have," he said. "Ever since I came here from Germany in 1933-three years it is now-I have with dear Malini been working, and every time I have seen him excited about a deai it was dirty business. He likes -that. Some people are born short, some tall, some fat, and some good-looking like you-he is born crooked. Simple, no? I wish I knew more about that deal." So did Davud. Actually, all he knew was what he had heard when his uncle took him to meet Malini for the first time. The two of them were arguing over the salary the "young trainee" would be receiving when Azmi Kantemir had suddenly asked, "Can you, Malini, undertake the salediscreetly, mind you-of some military equipment?" These words had caused the atmosphere to change unexpectedly. "New or secondhand?" M alini had queried. "New. Give me a cigarette, will you?" "I'll handle the deal," Malini had said. His eyes, Davud remembered, had frozen into a gaze which seemed to glitter with subdued excitement. And Azmi Kantemir had laughed. "Not so fast, dear man. It's only a project. I was just inquiring. Blast it, I for17

THE ISLE OF PRINCES

got my lighter in my coat. Be a good sport, Malini, give me a light." "But I know everyone who's in the market. It's big business. You'll need me to protect your-" "Not so fast I tell you." Davud had felt uncomfortable and was trying to make sense out of what he had heard when, in answer to his uncle's request to go slowly, Malini had begun to whine. "Look here, the boy is fine but he needs a commercial education. He's young, he has no expenses. Why do you insist on a big salary? It's not fair. Besides, if I give it to him he'll spend it all at Madame Atina's and his family will blame me. Now when I was his age-" Poor Malini. He had finally agreed to pay Davud two hundred pounds a month, and Azmi Kantemir was immensely pleased. As they walked out of the meeting he had said, "I negotiated that one beautifully. You must hand it to the diplomat as against the merchant: my timing, my tone, my subtle emphases-everything was perfect.'' Ever since that day Malini had lost whatever peace of mind he might have had before, and now Dr. Freilicher was also growing nervous. "Stop worrying," Davud told him. "We'll soon hear from Uncle one way or the other. Let's not make life more disagreeable than it is." Dr. Freilicher sighed. "Yes, life is difficult however you take it. Even for you who have a beautiful island to live on." He stood up. "If I ,vere younger, I ,vould Malini and his finanzen to the devil send. You know, if I ,vere younger, what I would be doing?" The fat cheeks quivered. "I would to Spain go with a gun in mine hand, and fight." Now he was nearly dancing on his short, slightly bent legs. "And I would join the anarchists. Yes, my friend. Only the an18

The Island

archists they can suit a man of mine titanic temperament. And boum I destroy everything I would-instead of sitting here for the protection of Malini's fortune." Davud laughed. "It's a wonderful idea. Maybe I should go." "No, no,'' Dr. Freilicher said. "You have a beautiful island with the gardens and the flowers and the traditions. Desperate adventures are only for homeless people, for romantic Jews, like me."

2

On the ferry which was taking him to the Island Davud tried to read the evening paper because Malini had decreed that a serious businessman must keep up with the news. He looked distractedly at the gray page and amid the banner headlines 1 which blurred all meaning, he saw the stern eyes of the President returning his gaze. As always, Davud was immediately interested. Mustafa Kemal Ataturk had a strange face, pervaded by an angry hunger. The features were classical, handsome, awe-inspiring; there was no coarseness in them-only strength. But it was a disquieting face. Those pale eyes: they pierced through the suavity that the smile and the heavy jowl had conjured up. His whole being seemed to be at their mercy. Their ruthless gleam was obviously the only thing that he had not succeeded in over. powering. Those eyes and my family, Davud thought with pride. Because you haven't been able to overpower the Tekinhans either. We did not run away when you ended the Empire, nor did we join you. N ~a;rly all the news surrounding the picture was about the

THE ISLE OF PRINCES

President: he had opened a new insane asylum, dedicated a center of animal husbandry, shaken hands with the oldest man in the world, ruled that certain textbooks on Turkish history be discarded . . . . But you cannot discard my grandfather, Yusuf Pasha Tekinhan, Davud thought, as his eyes scanned the page. You could not force him to be disloyal to the past. He had withdrawn to his Island surrounded by his whole clan and refused to recognize what you had done. And he happened to be the only man against whom you could take no action because his glory and service had been nearly as great as yours. You had to remain silent in front of his silence. It gave Davud pleasure to think these thoughts. He did not dislike the President the way some of the older members of the family did. The time for brutal hatred had passed; and, besides, both his and Refet's fathers had died serving under Ataturk. But they had died to save the Empire-the constitutional Empire for which Yusuf Pasha had fought and suffered so much during his long life. Then, Ataturk had been a glorious figure even according to the distorted mythology of the Tekinhans. The grabbing for power, the creation of a country so new and different as to be unrecognizable, the persecution of the old families, had come later. Davud folded the newspaper and put it on his lap. He stroked it as if to placate an impatience. "I shall read you tomorrow," he murmured. The boat was passing in front of the Topkapi Palace. Through the trees Davud could see the gardens from whose shaded lawns, five centuries ago, the great Sultan Mehmet the Conqueror had looked at this sea-soaked city the very evening he had taken Constantinople from the Byzantines. 20

The Island

Impassable, unapproachable, and gigantic, he had stood in the blue and red shadows of the ending day and gazed at this city that was half water and half land. What can a man dream about, Davud wondered, who had brought to a close a thousand years of history; erased the final vestiges of the incredible human experience that had been Rome? What could such a man dream about, standing under those trees, looking at what he had done? The photograph on his lap caught his eye again. He nodded to it. "You too are great," he said sadly, thus making his peace with the world around him. He asked, "Do you ever dream?" Then, incongruously, he remembered Malini's face, so utterly devoid of anything admirable as to be slightly frightening. "I came too late," he told himself, ind as always this admission filled him with immense anxieties. Istanbul surrounded the boat and glittered in the evening's yellow air. Each of its hills was crowned by a monumental mosque. On the slopes, the city proper was a tragic scramble of wood and stone and other less readily recognizable materials which had something in them of the men who had toiled and failed, and of their backbreaking efforts. But the 1nosques stood out clear and white against the sky, like answers that the race had given to its failures, its weariness, and confusions. Suddenly Davud felt that he must go to the other side of the ship, from which he could see the Island. He got up and crossed the important frontier into a universe in which everything made a deep kind of sense to him. But no sooner had he leaned against the rail than a well-known and longdisliked voice whispered into his ear, "I hear you're in business.'' 21

THE ISLE OF PRINCES

Togrul Meral was standing beside him, self-consciouslJ smiling at the sea. He was a pipe-smoking young man ir tweeds, with regular, clear-cut features. "Hello," Da vud said. "Well, I'd never have thought that you, of all people 1 would take such an unexpected step." There was a vague 1 inarticulate irony in Togrul Mcral's voice. "One has to live with the times." "But that you should come to understand such a thing is what I marvel at." He's trying to get even, Davud thought. In his own small way he is forever trying to get even-because we didn't treat him awfully well, did we? Years ago Togrul Meral's parents had bought one of the Tekinhans' villas on the Island and through this accident the poor boy had been forced to spend a good part of his time in a world which was incomprehensible to him, and hostile. A child of the Mainland thrown amidst the fierce traditions of an alien clan, he had had a rough time of it. And ever since then he had been trying to get even. "You know that I'm a man of action," Davud said, hating himself a little for the way he spoke. "I grew bored and decided to make a fortune -just to pass the time. Money is the only thing you people respect, isn't it?" One always had to be rude when Togrul Meral was around; one always had to play a role which sprang from deep-seated hostilities-they had proved stronger than sympathy and friendship born from long acquaintance. Besides, upstarts like him understood only the cliches they had erea ted, and in their eyes a T ekinhan had to speak in a certain way. Togrul let Davud's comment pass. He just asked, "Will you be at the ball tonight?" 22

The Island

"Yes." "Good. Let us make a small party." The smile-a maddeningly quiet explosion of n1irth-had returned to his face. "Let's." They spoke no more. But Davud suddenly wondered whether it could be true that Togrul Meral was in love with Belkis. There had been rumors to that effect lately. If they were true the poor boy was really going to incredible lengths to get even with the Tekinhans.

3 Like one floating mountain the four Islands of the Propontis approached the prow of the boat. The Byzantines had called them Islands of Princes and reserved their pine .. covered slopes for the pleasures of emperors and their courts. But centuries had passed since those luxurious times, and as the ferry drew near the first three isles appeared poor, made ugly by the styleless confusion of habitations huddled in the valleys of their hilly shapes. The last island, however, was large and looked opulent. It was the Prinkipo of the Greeks, the one that the Turks called Biiyiik Adathe Great Island-an imposing mass of land resembling the twin humps of a drowning camel. Half its length, especially the northern portion, was studded by beautiful villas. Toward the south, signs of human presence decreased until, at the very tip of the lower end, beyond the district called Nizam, one could sense rather than see from the boat a dark building rising in a shadowy glade. That was the family seat of the Tekinhans. Between it and the rest of the houses a long stretch of forest descended unhampered to the edge of the water. 23

THE ISLE OF PRINCES

Un the pier a colorful throng of summer residents was waiting for the ferry. To Davud these were Mainland people, intruders come to disturb and cause change. After landing he always walked quickly through the crowd, careful not to see or recognize. This had already caused comment that young Tekinhan, true to the tradition of his family, was growing up to be a snob. Now, Togrul Meral had some difficulty in following his flight along the shop-studded a venue to the curb where horse-drawn carriages awaited customers. "You're coming to dinner," Davud said as he got into one. Everybody always came to eat at the Tekinhans', and he was taken aback when the other answered, "No, old man. Tonight I'm dining with the beau monde. The haut monde will have to excuse me I" Then he straightened up, thrust out his chest, and strode with enormously long steps toward the Yacht Club. Davud leaned back in the landau. Stretc~ing under a dome of intertwined chestnuts and acacias the road to Nizam followed the base of the northern hill. Soon what had once been a fishermen's village, now grown into a resort for wealthy vacationers, gave way to a succession of villas, secure amid their wide gardens and visible only through elaborate. wrought-iron gates. Later, when the road reached Nizam, this gentle opulence changed into strongly guarded wealth, and the carriage rolled between walls that were made of rough stone. The iron of the gates became heavier, too, proclaiming an intent very different from the earlier decorative entrances. To the left the forest had appeared, and presently it came down and follo,ved the road for lengthening stretches. The carriage 24

The Island

passed some young men in tennis flannels returning home for dinner '1,nd after that was completely alone. When the horses entered the lands of the Tekinhans they held their heads high and increased their speed, as if they were in fear of being caught, among these slowly darkening regions, by the whisper of the oncoming night. Everything on the Island that had been conquered by the new people-the hotel-dwellers as well as the builders of villas-was now behind them: the laughter and the voices and the loudly colored dresses. The landau went through thick fores ts, where trees and bushes had grown fiercely; where tall pines stood, dark and attentive to the smallest breath of wind. Along the low hills everything-the woods, t~e water, the stones, and the sky-lived in an old and undisturbed intimacy. Many centuries had passed since the Tekinhans' arrival on the Island. Here they had built their abode upon rock buried in these forests, as a refuge from political intrigue and the unpredictable moods of emperors. Here they had lived in solitude, free from the trader, the innkeeper, the purveyor of amusements: only the family and some fishermen down beyond the gulf who had been there as long as the Tekinhans or longer-all of them Island people.

4 The carriage stopped below a terrace from which great marble steps fell to the border of the driveway. One of the balustraded sides of the terrace formed a vast platform overlooking the sea. There Davud found the family as25

THE ISLE OF PRINCES

sembled and quietly went to sit beside his cousin Refet Artuk. Nobody said a word, but looked at the setting sun. They were not sitting in scattered small groups; they formed one tightly knit human formation resisting the onslaught of the night. Every day of summer and autumn those members of the familv who were on the Island drifted at sunset toward the terrace and silently watched the twilight world. It was like a ritual gesture the origin and meaning of which have been forgotten. The terrace faced the sea through a spacious opening in the forest. This sudden window freed the whole house from the trees pressing close on all sides. In the clearing the land sloped gently toward the water and at the edge became jumbled rock, as though it needed teeth to live with the sea. Then, far to the left, Dilburnu-a mile-long peninsula covered by thick forests-jutted out from the body of the Island to form a bay which the evening had filled now with shadows, so that one could no longer see the small beaches that snagged its flanks. Everything was wild, menacing, and familiar. Suddenly, at the fringe of the horizon, Istanbul entered the night, leaving the islands to float alone through the rest of the equivocal moment. Then darkness engulfed them all as though with a big sigh and, as always, was deeper than the expectation. Refet pulled at his cousin's arm. "Time to dress." Without a word Davud followed him through the wide rose garden to the west wing, where they shared an a partment on the top floor. "Let's start off with quick glass of raki," Refet said. 26 ,I

a

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"Bring the decanter to the bathroom. I miss you all day long, embryonic businessman, and every night I like to celebrate your return among us." His voice had soft inflections seeming to treat all syllables with ironical deference. In a way it reflected the face in which his pale brown eyes were a constant gleam of pity and laughter. However, these many softnesses were contradicted by the aquiline nose ( "Inherited from my mother, who like all Tekinhans was falcon and, thank God, not fish, as so many people nowadays seem to be," he had once explained to his and his cousin's schoolmaster, Zeki Zekeriya, ~ho was unmistakably fish) and by his stern mouth, which endowed the whole head with unanswerable authority. He had the air of a man who, if lucky, might, in his middle age, become a clever Pope. Sipping his wine while sitting in the bathtub, he studied Davud as he talked. "My days are empty without you. All I do is iie down and think, then go for walks and think some more. I roam through the places where we spent our Homeric childhood-only to find that everything is empty and dead. What do you advise for the terrible state I'm in, little businessman?" "Follow my admirable example-accept the universe, get yourself a job, make a fortune." "Oh I I'm not as cl_ever as all that," Ref et mused. "Besides, I have never been able to und~rstand why you embarked on so unexpected a course." ''There was nothing else to be done. Our childhood is finished. There are no more games we can play here. And let's not forget for one instant that I'm making, my young years ~ptwi thstanding, two hundred pounds a month in crisp legal tep.der. The true meaning of this can only be expressed 27

,,

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in the profound words of Mr. Malini: 'Two hundred pounds a month, young man, are . . . eh l • • • two hundred pounds a month.' " "Neither must we forget," Ref et said, "that Uncle Azmi practically ordered you to take the bloody job. I trust his underlying motives are still shrouded in darkness?'' "They are. And if they remain so a while longer I shall once more join you in your leisure.'' Refet got out of the bathtub and started to dry his finely muscled body. Davud was undressing in silence. "Well," Ref et muttered, "I must accept your actions, incomprehensible as they may be. Besides, I have a more romantic view of the vvhole thing. I think you went to the Mainland as an explorer. You wanted to find out what was going on there. How is it? Tell me." "Awful," Davud said. "I knew it. Give me another drink, fast. Why is it so awful?'' "I wish I could explain. It's very unreal and frustrating. Everything seems dirty and lowly." "Istanbul is not the solution for us," Ref et murmured, "nor the whole of Turkey, for that matter. You see, we were brought up to cope with different situations altogether. For some curious reason Grandfather wanted it that way. Because our ancestors had been the leaders of this race we too were brought up as leaders. Instinctively we think in terms of building schools where the people can learn, hospitals where they can be healed, mosques where they can pray. In our dreams we still shed our blood for their protection and our tears for their failures." Davud had refilled the tub, got into it, and was scrubbing himself furiously as if to get the grime of the Mainland out of his skin.

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"But, damn it, the people no longer want us to do these things for them. It's not the fashion any more for a family or a class to do these things. They want us to be like everybody else," and Refet laughed his soft laughter, poured himself another drink, and added, "They don't realize, of course, that they're asking the impossible." He seemed rather amused by what he had said. "You know, I'm beginning to believe that Grandfather is the only one in the whole f an1ily who has understood the problem in all its mysterious and intricate dimensions. If we accept the fact that it is not possible to make small, everyday personalities out of us, then only one· solution remains: to create beings so impossible to fit into their surroundings that they will become adventurers. I think that's what he's tried to do. I'm not sure he has succeeded, though." "Why?" "Well, to be a real adventurer you have to be utterly irnprobable. Free from your blood, your traditions, your memories. Free from love, pity, fear. Completely identified with a reality so deep that no one else sees it. Committed to one single dream. Do we meet those specifications?" "I don't know," Davud said. "Of course we don't. We're simple sentimentalists watching a world we like die under our eyes and nursing the delicate pain with which this specta~le tickles our bowels. Worse than that: we're insidiously forging new shackles for ourselves as each day destroys the ones we already have. Malini, Belkis and N ermin, our attachment to Grandfather, our obsession with this Island-shackles, all! Man, do you realiz~ that we are laying the foundations of a very horrible little -fyture for which we are not prepared?" Davud got out of the water, finished his glass, and took 29

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refuge in the folds of an immense towel. "Well," he asked, "what do you propose we do?" Ref et shook his head with mock sadness. "To suggest a course of action is completely outside my principles. Remember, you're the leader in this family. You are my lord by right of birth. I'm only a second-string Tekinhan, through the accident of my mother, God bless her tomb. Ever since I could walk, you've told me what to do." They went into the living room, which was furnished in the old Turkish manner: one long divan running along three walls and low coffee tables placed symmetrically in the wide, empty, middle space. The walls were paneled with lightbrown wood which ended about a foot below the ceiling in a sculptured frieze of Arabic script reproducing verses of the Koran. On the floor, the huge carpet was an explosion of subtle colors and intricate designs. Once the eye had been caught by it the rest of the place became a simple frame for its unending shimmers and rhythms. Davud opened the finely latticed doors of a closet and started to dress. Refet, who was doing the same in front of a similar closet, continued to talk. "Everything, including your present speechlessness, confirms the unbearable, the monstrous, truth of my analysis. It was different when we were children. We were adventurers tlien, and Grandfather's experiment looked like a huge success. Our isolation, our games of ,var, our ruthless ability to take care of ourselves in dangerous situations, the skills of leadership we learned from Sergeant Mehmet, and everything we refused to learn from fat old Zeki Zekeriya-all that and the rest, too, added up to a preparation for a certain kind of life. But when childhood ended, and our games with it, the whole framework in which we made some sort of sense collapsed. And we haven't been able to re30

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create a life in which our talents or whatever we know can stand us in good stead. And-" he went to the bureau to get another drink-"the kind of life toward which I see us sliding imperceptibly has absolutely no room for our experience, our courage, our emotions-in fine, for the type of men we are. I trust I make myself perfectly clear. Ha I" It was difficult to tell when Ref et was serious. Yet Davud could not help feeling that his cousin had made an attempt to unburden himself of something that must have been concerning him greatly. Davud did not know how to answer. He said at random, "All you've told me is that we need some grown-up version of our childhood games: a good shooting war, for example." Then, remembering Dr. Freilicher, he began to laugh. "There's a beauty of a war in Spain," he said. "We could go there." He had expected to hear his cousin snicker. Instead, Refet said, "Today as I was walking through the ruined realms and empires of our childhood I found that I couldn't get Spain out of my mind . Sergeant Mehmet always told us that battle is the only thing that makes a man out of a boy. It's time we became men." They were ready for the party. Refet bent his head and smiled at his cousin. "You look funny in this get-up, little businessman." They were like different aspects of the same hallucination. Their tail coats, which had once belonged to their fathers ( this was one of the curious measures of economy strictly enforced in the Tekinhan household), were old and of a cut which was no longer in fashion. Their white ties were a little too thin, their shirt fronts too exuberant. Sunk in thought, Davud looked around him: at the seventeenth-century carpet, the divan whose wooden base was the work of the great Ahmedi, the frieze above their heads JI

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o!

proclaiming the ninety-nine Attributes ~od, and,_ finally, at his cousin who stood in black and white 1n the middle of all that. "We can't go to Spain," he said, at length. ''There's Grandfather. We are part of his dream. Then there are the girls. We're part of their dream, too." Refet seemed not to have heard him. He opened the door . h" saying, "Af ter you, my d ear M etter111c . They bowed to each other and started the long descent toward the dining room.

5 Yusuf Pasha T ekinhan entered the dining room and the clock struck eight. He was a small rnan, but the way he held himself and the rhythm of his manners harmonized in so deep an impression of inaccessibility that even the tallest person always seemed to be looking up to him. His face, devoid of indifferent detail, was chiseled to signify strength. It ,vas a tragic mask such as tyrants grow into after years of unrelieved dominion. All his movements bore the stamp of the most meticulous tact; yet authority quivered in even his smallest gesture. His most consistently striking feature was the utter absence of nonchalance from his person or his clothes. Everything about him-the perfectly cut tails, the dazzling shirt, the supercilious way in which he held his head-seemed a formalized expression of the man he was. He remained on the threshold for a moment and made a barely visible gesture with· his head. This was multiplied and returned by all those who had been waiting. He re32

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ceived the salute, then went to sit at his place. The others let a few seconds pass before they too sat down. Silent servants started fluttering along the walls. Dinner had begun. Ref et followed his grand£ a ther' s movements for a while, listening distractedly to the rumble which was gaining momentum about him. The dining hall was full. Yusuf Pasha liked it that way, and his table was always open to all. Many of these people had eaten here ever since Refet could remember, without seeming to notice upheavals, wars, revolutions. 1'hen he heard Davud ask someone, "Where is _your sister?" and had to face a fact he had been trying hard to forget. HBelkis is dining at the Yacht Club," N ermin said. Belkis's absence immured Refet within a great loneliness, even though she had told him she would be dining out. "How perfectly absurd," Davud said. "What about the ball? She is going, isn't she?" There was an embarrassed silence. "She will be at the ball, but not with us," Ref et told him. "Who, in Heaven's name, is she going with?" "She's going with Togrul Meral," N ermin said quickly. "Oh I No." Refet smiled. "The beloved friend. The joy of our childhood.'' "I'm going to the ball," stated a thin-nosed, slit-mouthed man of military bearing who was sitting on the other side of N ermin. "You must promise your first dance to me." He spoke with the clipped authoritativeness characteristic of all the Tekinhans. "! ,...promise, Dundar Bey," N ermin said. "N..Pw you try to keep that promise." He turned toward Davud. "And how are the troglodytes today?" TrogloJJ

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dytes, in the Island's vocabulary, were the Mainland people. ''Flourishing.'' "I own that I'm sorry to see you toiling in their midst." "He wants to get used to them," Ref et said. "This holiday here might not last forever." Dundar Bey did not even look at Refet. He continued to address Davud. "I knew it was a mistake to entrust that fat pseudo-philosopher Zeki Zekeriya with your education. He made something unrecognizable out of you-I mean, as Tekinhans go." "What's so extraordinary in working?" Davud asked. "Nothing at all. But it is extraordinary that you should choose to spend your days among upstarts and robbers who, ever since they came to power, have been taking our property away. Last year they expropriated our lands in the name of something called 'Natural Justice,' and today they have taken the Chorum mines-" Davud paled visibly. "Is that true?" His question was directed to Ref et. "Yes. I forgot to tell you upstairs. The Supreme Court ruled for the expropriation. We got the news this afternoon." N ermin took Davud's hand. "Oh, my darling," she murmured. Refet had felt from the beginning that the mines would go. Nowadays no one won a case against the Government, especially not a Tekinhan, and especially not in a case involving the expropriation of property. "This time," Dundar Bey continued, in the voice which caused his words to scatter about him like icy drops of rain, "they did not even feel the need of advancing an excuse. No nonsense about 'N atu'ral Justice,' this time." He was almost shivering with indignation. "I grant you that we can34

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not beat them, but we can defy them. We can defy them by ignoring them. Yet how can we do that when our exalted Davud honors them daily with his presence on the Mainland? What you are doing, my dear nephew, is extending recognition to the troglodytes. You cannot ignore something you have recognized.'' _l_ f '(1~.if)f~>-:"I'm not the only one," Davud said, knowing that this was no argument. "Look at Uncle Azmi Kantemir in Ankara-'' "Your Uncle Azmi Bey is a charming, wonderful, and foolish 1nan. And his foolishness will cost him dear one of these days. He should have obeyed your grandfather's orders and resigned his post at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to come and live on the Island with the rest of us when, in 19 2 3, the glorious Empire was overthrown by a general/' "And· that would have only put him in the ridiculous position in which we find ourselves today: exiles within our own country." Now Dundar Bey's words began to drop out of a gray, overcast atmosphere created by the look in his eyes. ''I want you to understand, once and for all, that we are not in a ridiculous position. No gesture of defiance can be ridiculous." Ref et decided that the time had come to enter the old argument and rescue Davud. He said, "Great God I What is this defiance we keep talking about? Only an attitude to hide the fact that we're annoyed at seeing the people completely capable of getting along by themselves. They don't need us. The Government is doing very well. To us, our ruler~ appear a little ridiculous because they're new, becaus_e they' ~njoy their power unashamedly, and because parvenus are always funny. So, not being able to criticize their actions 35

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any more, we find solace in laughing at their manners. Nothing very admirable in that, is there?" He found that he had spoken a little too heatedly. There was a great area of silence around him. He wanted to stop, or at least to change course, but he could not. "All we want really," he went on, "is to remain elegant. That's our only concern. We have sacrificed everything for it. But we won't even be able to do that in the long run. Elegance is based on wealth. We're losing everything we have. Today it was the mines. Tomorrow, it will be the Island. Oh, we'll give in all right-" Dundar Bey did not let him go on. "No," he said. "No. We shall not give in. We shall be destroyed. There's a great and beautiful difference." For a fleeting instant Refet felt that his grandfather was staring at him but by the time he lifted his eyes it was too late and Yusuf Pasha had once again become a faraway figure who by his mere presence made them feel secure and, to an astonishing degree, strong. He was sorry to have missed one of those moments when, driven by the endless curiosity which he seemed to feel about his offspring, the old eyes burned deep in the stillness of the face would go from one to the other end of the table without, at first, stopping long enough to yield a meaning to the quest. But sometimes it happened that Yusuf Pasha would cease eating and look at the entire room. During those seconds it ,vas obvious to Refet that in the unfathomable mind of this powerful father a silent judgment was being formed, a verdict proclaimed, an appeal refused, and a sentence passed~ Refet forced himself back into Dundar Bey's cold world of attitudes and gestures. · " . . . 1,ook at what is left," Dundar Bey was saying. 36

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"Look at what they're doing to the country." His voice was slightly higher than before. "They're doing the country a great deal of good, as far as I can see. They have taken a broken-down empire and turned it into a nice little country. It is modern, the economy is sound, the trains run on time. What more do we want?" Refet felt pain at seeing an immense sadness becloud Dundar Bey's proud features. N ermin and Davud were eating, locked in utter silence. Dundar Bey let a few seconds pass. Then, in a completely changed voice, he said, "You're right, my child. They took a completely broken-down empire, a discredited, disorganized, mismanaged, laughingstock of an empire and rnade a beautiful little country out of it. If we are lucky, we shall become the jewel of the fifth-rate powers. What a fate for a people like the Turks. And you, descendant of leaders whom the world could not contain, you who were born to conquer, rule, and administer, are happy because a group of misbegotten nobodies decided that Turkish history occurred in order for them to create a sweet little country." Slowly he finished his fish, holding them suspended in silence. Then, he continued, "You, sir, have undoubtedly been taught about. our past. But have they told you that these little Turks, now working so hard for a chance to get used to their smallness, are the sons of a race that destroyed the Abbaside Empire of the Arabs and brought the rule of law to the whole Middle East? Have they told you that it was they who succeeded to the vision which had gone into the. ereation of the Roman Empire? w·ere you told that when one of your forefathers sneezed in Istanbul, emperors and kings trembled from one end of Europe to the other? 37

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And now, you want me to think that all that grandeur, all that pride, that Pax Turcica which gave peace and go~d government to uncounted millions of l\,foslems and Christians for over five hundred years, was conceived, nurtured, and brought into being to permit a half--dozen military rebels to force a dream of insignificance upon this imperial nation . . . . No, sir, I want no part of it. Defiance to the death, nonacceptance to the bitter end, is the only attitude a T ekinhan can adopt. And if this ruins us, then let us be ruined; if it kills us, then let us be killed; but until these things come to pass, let us live in the only posture that makes us true to our past." Bloody dreams, Refet was thinking, the incurable habit of seeing everything in terms of grand politics, grand economics, grand unreality. "vVe will never learn," he said quietly, and smiled; "we," he repeated-in his innermost thoughts he always unconsciously aligned himself on the side of the Island despite his brave words. He saw Davud exchange glances with N ermin, whose face, framed by black wavy hair falling in one quick shado,v over her shoulders, was more bereft of expression tonight than usual. Once again a great feeling of loneliness engulfed him. He ,vished Belkis were there. "We cannot leave," he remembered Davud's saying, "because we're part of the girls' dream." Everything held them to their untenable situation. We cannot leave because of Grandfather, ,ve cannot leave because of two orphan girls, we cannot leave because of the past, because of dreams, dreams, dreams. Belkis had come to him in the afternoon and said that Togrul Meral had asked her to dinner before the ball. And he had not been able to answer anything to her, anything that he knew she wanted to hear. He had not been able to tell her that he loved her ' or that he needed her, and please to stop this nonsense with 38

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Togrul. He had smiled and nodded and changed the subject of conversation. He now recalled how she had looked at him: beseechingly, bewilderedly, and sadly. And she had gone. And now he needed her. The idea of Togrul Meral's being in love with Belkis was ridiculous. "It is I who am in love with her," he said to himself, wondering all the while whether this uneasiness which weighed so heavily in his soul could be jealousy. But how was it possible for him, Refet Artuk, descendant of people who when they sneezed created such havoc among the kings of Europe, to be jealous of little Togrul Meral? He nearly laughed aloud. Once more he looked in the direction of his grandfather. -Yusuf Pasha was eating, steeped in God knew what gigantic dreams. "You're very old," Refet murmured at him. ''You' re very old. . . . " Around him the rumble went on unabated. ". . . now a barren land, I tell you, sir, where only sycophants grow . . . ." " . . . All the arrivists have arrived, whither will they proceed. . . . " '' . . . Edward VII then took me by the arm and said . . ." ". . . he was a great chef. His pilaf nearly wrecked the Congress of Berlin . . . . " Endlessly, course after course, dinner at the Tekinhans' continued.

6 They had finished their coffee and were ready to leave for the Yacht Club where the ball was being held when, suddenly, Davud said, "Excuse me for five minutes," and left. Ever since hearing about the expropriation of the Chorum mines he had felt frightened. It was the kind of shapeless and senseless fear that only the certainty of his grand39

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father's still being alive could overcome. Thus he had decided to go and see him. One never visited Yusuf Pasha without being summoned. But what of it, he thought, he's my grandfather, I need him, it will amaze him to see me. Avoiding the great number of family and guests who thronged the drawing rooms, he went back to the dining hall and knocked on the small door of the library. He entered before he could hear an answer. He was immediat~ly transfixed by the glare of a single eye. "I've come to say good night, my lord." Yusuf Pasha smiled as though the young man's face had brought back some pleasant memory to his mind. "You are Da vud." He was sitting in front of the fireplace, which cast a strong light over one half of his face; the other half was plunged in darkness and had become incomprehensible beyond measure. "Yes, my lord." Yusuf Pasha waved his hand and Davud sat down on a low stool at his feet. "You and Ref et were annoying Cousin Dundar Bey during dinner." So, it is true that nothing escapes him, Davud thought. "Begging your pardon, my lord,. we were engaged in a discussion we carry on nearly every night." "You are looking for a way out," Yusuf Pasha said unexpectedly. "That's as it should be. The time is nearing when you'll have to find one." He stopped. Davud felt that he must say something. He took refuge in a ceremonial phrase. "I shall do whatever you order, my lord." The single visible eye filled the roo1n with an explosion of laughter. "You look a little like your father-may the 40

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P~lmighty bless his tomb. You have his brow and you have his voice. He died in battle, and that was a good thing. All of us should have died in battle." "Yes, my lord." "That would have been the easy way out. I was too old and you were too young, both you and Ref et. But enough of this. Li£ e has to be looked at in terms of life, not death. That's the way of courage. Yet here you are, still so very young and so very frightened. That's because you don't know how wonderful it is to start life without anything except the strength and pride which your blood has given you. Free, strong, and ruthless, ~ith none of this burden-" - and Yusuf Pasha made a small gesture with which he was able to embrace the room, the house, and the Island-"that will disappear as soon as I go." Then, as though talking to himself, he said, "That is the way I want it to be." "Your wishes are always good and always right, my lord," Da vud said quietly, still the prisoner of the language which had been imposed upon his mind since childhood. "Good and right," his grandfather said with a barely perceptible trace of impatience in his voice. "How are you ever going to know them in this new world? Everything has changed so." He looked at Davud for a few seconds, leaning slightly forward, then he uttered the single word, ''Pride.'' There must have been deep bewilderment on the young man's face, for the expression of immense fierceness which had come into Yusuf Pasha's eye melted slowly. "Prideand thank God we are well used to its dangerous ways-is the only thing left to us, by means of which we can tell what is good and what is right. Therefore, never forget that you are - a Tekinhan. No matter what happens, never forget that.,., 4I

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Davud could not bring himself to utter another readymade formula. After a short silence, his grandfather said gently, "There was joy when you were born. Good night." "Good night, my lord." Da vud stood up. "Don't look so somber, and stop annoying Cousin Dundar Bey." Da vud bowed and started toward the door. However, Yusuf Pasha was not finished with him. "Those tails you're wearing look awfully strange," he said . "Such a queer cut. Lattimore used to do them like that, but decades ago." "They're Father's old ones, my lord." "Of course. I should have thought of that. They're good enough for the house, I suppose. I hope you don't wear the1n outside." Davud hesitated. Yusuf Pasha looked at him for some time, then he almost laughed. "Go," he said. "It does not matter how a Tekinhan is dressed." Davud bowed again and went out. He was trembling, but he also felt deeply at peace with himself. "I'm no longer afraid," he kept repeating. "I'm no longer afraid." He found N ermin and Ref et waiting on the terrace. "I went to see Grandfather," he told them as they descended into the gardens. "What did he have to say?" "He said that the day I was born there was joy in the universe.'' Through the darkness and the murmuring foliage they walked toward the coach house where a carriage was being prepared to take them to the ball. They fallowed, not the main driveway, but a small path in the woods. N ermin remembered this path as one of the few things 42

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left from the heroic days of the beginning when Davud and Ref et had taken them-the absent sister had not been absent then-under their protection and def ended them, strangers who had arrived in their midst as though exiled by some unforgiving circumstance, from the hostility of the other children. Whatever existed now was born in those days of struggle: the feeling of apartness, the dependency on these two boys, the love. She wanted to take Da vud' s hand but did not do so because Ref et was walking alone tonight. So they went, Davud steeped in his dreams, Ref et whistling as he often did when he felt depressed, and herself, curiously sad, distraught, and tense, wishing to take a hand she did not dare take, the most silent and lost of the three. That night at the Yacht Club, unexpectedly but amid much music and laughter, Belkis Tuli's engagement to Togrul Meral was announced.

•' 43

'I'wo

Belkis muttered 1 "I don't care. It was a crazy thing to do, but I just don't care." And N ermin repeated, "We're in for a big scene." For a short while they watched their aunt, who was climbing the grassy incline with an excessive show of weariness. "She had heard about it even before we woke up," N ermin said. "I don't care. Something had to be done," Belkis answered stubbornly. They were sitting in front of the Selamlik, which stood upon a small promontory of flo,very parterres. It was a gentle building in the gay style of a hunting pavilion, and its approaches had none of the menace and broodiness which surrounded the big house of the Tekinhans. 44

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The aunt came to the breakfast table without looking at either of her nieces. Both girls stood up and said, "Good morning, Aunt Adile.'' But Miss Adile Tuli disregarded the greeting. "N ermin, bring out some vases," she said and let the flowers she was carrying fall to her feet. The cold glimmer of authority which sparkled in her voice was marred somewhat by the anger seething within her. She sat down and cast upon everything a studied blank stare. She was tall and gaunt, yet she managed without difficulty to, look insignificant. Belkis could not stand the silence. She asked, "Well, aren't you going to wish me luck?" - The cup of tea "rhich her aunt was holding stopped between the table and the chin. "What are you talking about?" The cup resumed its slow ascent toward the lips. "I am talking about my engagement to Togrul Meral." This statement ,vas badly timed. The tea was hotter than Miss Adile Tuli had anticipated, and Belkis's words made her gulp down much more than was wise. She let out a savage cry of pain. "Owhhhhhh I How- Oh I How could you? How-" For a moment she was a woman inhabited by lightning. "Silence," she cried, although no one had spoken; then she looked at N ermin, who had returned with the vases, and shouted again at random, ''How could you?'' All this while she was trying to remember the words she had resolved to deliver f but despite the cooling of her esophagus she was not able to reduce them to their original order. So she hurled them at her niece without any further ado. ".An., engagement- Have you lost your mind? Who do .

45

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you think you are-and I didn't know anything about it. How dare you, making an announcement without my per• mission? When I was young an engagement was an important thing. Oh I My God, why are you punishing me so? Making such an important announcement during drunken festivities. And his parents weren't even there-oh . . . . " She could not go on. Suddenly Belkis felt weary. "I'm sorry," she said in a low voice. "I know that I should have discussed my plans with you. But I-" However, her aunt was not ready to relinquish what she thought to be a tactical advantage by remaining quiet. "In my time the boy's parents would have come to ask me whether their son could marry you. We would have discussed the matter. We would have made plans for the future. We-" Belkis was no longer listening. Remembering the previous evening, she tried to understand what it was that had caused her to agree to Togrul's unexpected impatience. He had suddenly insisted that they must announce their engagement now, yet until that moment she had not even been quite sure of either her own or his intentions. And immediately after saying yes, she had regretted what she had done, for Togrul had run toward Ref et shouting, "I win I I win I'' laughing, dancing, and spilling his champagne. He couldn't have done it just to hurt Refet, she thought. But she was not sure. Refet had acted in a manner typical of him. He had smiled from afar. He had lifted his glass to her. He had drunk immense quantities without losing his composure. But, after that, he had not come near her. ''I'm in love with Ref et," she told herself. This did not strike her as strange. Her aunt was continuing to shout. 46

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"Did you ever stop to think what the Tekinhans are going to say about all this? Oh I My God I" The thought of what the Tekinhans might say fanned Miss Adile Tuli's fury into outright rage. She got up, kicked the flowers, which she had forgotten to put into vases, and went back to the house. Belkis watched her sister intently. She was feeling very lonely; what she had done seemed to have destroyed all the existing patterns, the alliances, even the sympathies. She said, "Aunt doesn't really care about the engagement. All she worries about is 'What will the Tekinhans say?' " Nermin did not answer. "Listen," Belkis said, "we came here as orphans-" A sudden fatigue invaded her and she gave up. But this time it was N ermin who would not let go. "So?" "l"'isten," Belkis said again, "there's nothing wrong in becoming engaged to be married. Ref et never asked me-" No, this was not what she really wanted to say, and N ermin was looking at her as if she knew it. "We're children no longer," Belkis said finally. She kept her eyes on her sister. "We have to get away." "This is our home." "No. This Island is nobody's home any longer. It's a dream.Yesterday they lost the mines," she said, "tomorrow Yusuf Pasha might die," and she wondered whether this was what had mad~ her accept Togrul. "Listen," she went on, in a nearly hysterical whisper, '~we have to begin living as other people do. You don't seem to understand our situation. I'm your older sister; I must think about these things. We have to look after ourselves because no one else will do so. The wonderful childhood we've had has not prep,ared us for anything. You know that." 47

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. sa1.d . "But the Tekinhans . . ."N erm1n Belkis looked at her sister. N ermin had grown talltaller than herself-and very beautiful. She had accepted the Island completely, and this obviously made her believe that tomorrow would be the same as yesterday: that life would be nothing but the riding of horses, which she did so well; the loving of Davud; the enjoying of picnics and of swimming in the moonlight. Belkis looked at her sister and thought, I am weaker than she is, and because I have seen the dangers of our situation my life has become one long anxiety. Everything I understand makes me vulnerable-whereas in her beauty and her memories she is strong. Nevertheless, she could not help feeling like a mother toward N ermin. They had been orphans together; they still were. "The Tekinhans are finished," she said. "This Island was Yusuf Pasha's dream. It will disappear with him. We have to leave. We must grow up. There's no more time left." Her sister was looking at her as though bemused by these strange words. "Is that why you-" But Belkis interrupted her. "We have to go," she repeated. "Otherwise Davud and Refet will never grow up to do something real. They will stay on the Island and they will die with it." She had spoken quickly and as if, finally, she had been able to tell herself a deep truth. And her voice ,vas so sad that the younger sister was touched by her torment. "I will stand by you whatever happens," N ermin said. And Belkis thought, She does not understand. She still thinks it's a game out of our childhood. From the far corner of the garden, where green shadows formed a fortress of dark.ness, Togrul Meral emerged in ,vhi te trousers and blazer.

The Island

"Hello, darling," he shouted when he came withln earshot. "I called Mother. She's expecting us tonight." He looked drawn and worried. "Aunt made a big scene)" Belkis told him. "She thinks we acted in the poorest possible taste. You had better be charn1ing with her. Would you like to go swimming?" "I'd love it. Shall we go to your beach on Dilburnu ?" Belkis stopped. How dare he? she thought. That beach belonged to her and to Refet. They had conquered it and they had fought hard for it. No stranger had ever been allowed to set foot on it. She said, "No, we'll jump in from here. But first say hello to Aunt Adile." Togrul Meral was happy at the prospect of some exer-cise. He always needed it when he was worried. And he was very worried just now, for his mother had taken the news of his surprise engagement exactly as he had expected her to take it.

2

l\1r. Ahmet Meral was a man who, for many years, had carefully cultivated his short temper as something which others might mistake for strength. Furthermore he suffered from a monumental dislike for getting up before lunch. Therefore he did not take the matter meekly when the butler woke him at nine o'clock upon the outrageous pretext that his wife wished to see him. "Now," said the man, and Mr. Ahmet Meral shivered with rage; "immediately." And he saw red. Spurning the dressing gown the servant was offering him, he rushed to his wife's room. There he was met by shrieks. ,.,,. "I-le has done it," Mrs. Meral was shouting whenever .; 49

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she came up for air from under the pillow. "He has done

.1t.',,

"What, in God's Holy Name, is this nonsense?" her husband thundered. "Why did you get me up?" But his wife just writhed and sobbed and sighed and said, "He has done it." Mr. Ahmet Meral tried to catch her by the arm, but in that fleshy mass it was impossible to distinguish one limb from another, so he began to push her up and down on the mattress. As he did this he repeated, "Why did you get me out of bed? Why did you get me out of bed? Why did you-'' After some time Mrs. Meral said, "I told you to send him to Switzerland. I told you. But you would not listen." The husband gave up first. "What is happening?" he asked.

"Togrul telephoned," she said. "He's got himself engaged to some fem ale." This did not seem to strike Mr. Ahmet Meral as a cataclysm. He asked whisperingly, "Is this the reason you got me up?'' "Don't shout like that," his wife cried in anticipation of the storm. "Can't you see how unhappy I am?" He kept back the impending outburst. "All right," he said, "tell me everything." "He's engaged to be married. He is bringing her here tonight." Mrs. Meral's pain became fully orchestrated. "He called me just now and said, 'Mother, I have a confession to make,' and then he told me that he was engaged and that the engagement had been announced last night at the Yacht Club Ball." "Very peculiar manners,'~ her husband commented. "Why didn't he ask my permission? Who is she, anyway?" 50

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''Ooooh I My poor Togrul. How could he have done this to me? She is Belkis Tuli. You remember her-one of the 1\lli girls who live on the Tekinhans' place with their aunt. A nobody. No name. No background. No money. What will the Tekinhans think? Maybe they arranged the whole thing to prevent one of their own sons from marrying her. I always thought Ref et Artuk loved her. Oh! vVhy didn't you send Togrul to Switzerland when I told you?" Mr. Ahmet Meral was brooding. "A little calm, please. It's most difficult to think when you insist on shouting. Let us see them first and then I shall make a decision." He stood up. His wife looked at him while he was ar-ranging his pajama trousers. Anything more tragically ridiculous could hardly be imagined. He was ugly, he was fat, he was unintelligent. He was going to make a decision. Ha I She must la ugh. It would be his first decision in twenty-five years. Poor man. Mr. Ahmet Meral left without another word. He returned to his room and with a great sigh went back to bed. His wife busied herself with the task of straightening the chaos in which she was sitting .. She propped up the pillows, squared the sheets, and settled down. She was satisfied with the morning's work and looked forward to the struggle ahead. It was a long time since she had got into a real fight with anyone. Togrul had become too independent. All these newfangled ideas of freedom, and going to dances, and staying up until all hours of the morning were very beautiful, but not for Togrul. She wanted him to become a gentleman in the old way, marry well and high, and settle down. Let them come tonight. And her old pugnaciousness which had sent her husband to the wars, got ,,,. him' wounded, made him a hero, then a member of Parlia.,,, 51

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ment, then a successful businessman, shivered along her sinews like an imprisoned animal. The door opened and an old woman in peasant costume came in bearing a cup of coffee. She was bent nearly double with age. Her face had the color and appearance of a dried apricot. "Good morning, Nanny," said Mrs. Meral. "Good morning. I hear that Togrul got engaged to some girl." Nanny Tcherkess's sources of information were accurate and ubiquitous. She sat on the floor beside the bed. "What are you going to do about it?" she asked. Mrs. Meral did not answer, but the old nanny already knew what was in her mind. Her satisfaction was expressed by the exhibition of a pair of toothless gums. There was nothing she liked better than the prospect of a good row in the family.

3 "What are you going to do?" The Selamlik appeared before them as Davud asked that question. Evening had made it a ghost of its daytime self. Refet said, "I will do nothing. I feel she did the right thing.'' Davud walked, whispering through the evening, "How?" "She had to get away fro~ us, both for her sake and for ours." They had reached the last trees. At that moment a carriage left the Selamlik and, following the drive,vay, first came toward them, then veered to lose itself in the violent 52

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twilight which had swallowed the road below. Belkis and Togrul appeared for an instant and were quickly gone. Davud looked at his cousin, who whispered, "Don't say anything now.'' But Davud again asked the question which was haunting him: "What are you going to do?" Ref et started to walk toward the seashore. "I will go to the beach," he said. "That's what I'll do." Soon he entered the twilight which, a moment ago, had engulfed Belkis and Togrul. · Davud remained under the trees, his hand stretched after the receding Ref et. He did not move until the other had disappeared. Then he lowered his arm and whistled. Lost in the gray air, he walked slowly to the Selamlik. He went to a small bench which stood against the house and sat down. A few minutes later N ermin tiptoed up to him. Stealthily they headed back toward the forest. J:i"'ollowing a barely visible path on the side of the hill, they came to a small vale. At the end of it the ruins of a Byzantine n1onastery could be seen. ,vhen they reached the first moss-covered blocks of stone they sat down, concealed in shadows. For a while they did nothing but kiss hurriedly, as they had always done. They found it impossible to shed the gestures of their childhood: not only the quick kiss which was half greeting, half caress ~ut also the silent escape from the house, the mysterious walk in the darkness, the refuge of the ruins-all these were inherited from ·the days of the beginning, when they had had to overcome ambushes of the hosu tile, as well as the vigilance of their elders, in their attempt to build a private world they could defend against all other worlds. 53

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"This has been a terrible day," N ermin finally said. They stopped kissing. They leaned against the ancient stone and looked all the way into the night whose darkness was pale upon the Island. "Belkis has gone." "I know. Togrul was with her. We saw them leave." "Was Refet with you?" "He was coming to see her." "And if I became engaged would you come to see me?" "Of course. But you won ' t do sue h a t h"1ng. " "What makes you so sure?" "You love me." N ermin was on the point of saying: Belkis loves Ref et. Instead she murmured, "They want me to join them in Istanbul. I will go tomorrow, if it's all right with Togrul's mother." "Don't you dare desert the Island." ''The Island-the Island-the Island," she said. "Are you also against it?" "Yes." She stared in his direction, hoping to see his eyes. "It's not that I really hate it," she said quietly. "It's that I'm beginning to feel insecure ~ere. We can no longer defend it against the Mainland. We did when we were children-but ,ve're children no longer. vVhen Yusuf Pasha dies it will be the end of the Island. What then?" "Is that ,vhy Belkis is engaged to Togrul ?" "Yes. Also she thought that-" She realized that she did not yet clearly understand her sister's motives. "Well?" "Well, she said that with us here, you and Refet would never decide what you want to do with your lives. I think that's what she tried to say." 54

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"Refet thinks that Belkis has done the right thing," Davud muttered. "You see?" Then the words that she had wanted to say from the beginning came out unexpectedly. "Will you and Ref et make your peace with the Mainland now?" Without waiting for an answer she turned toward him and searched for his lips. It was a slower kiss than the ones they had hitherto exchanged. It made Davud vaguely uneasy. "It's not as simple as that," he said. She took him in her arms and began to kiss his brow, his eyes, his cheeks, and while she was doing this she kept thinking about her sister who had returned to the main stream of life-the stream which by-passed the Island and the Tekinhans. She said, "Belkis will be in Istanbul soon," and as he made a movement which she took for a gesture of impatience she hung on to him, her lips against his face, muttering, "I love you so n1uch, my darling."

4 Dilburnu. A tongue of earth with rock-jagged edges striking out from the body of the Island. The eye could not perceive the end of it, the tip which was lost in the night-sea. And although the air was not dark, it blinded you, as if between eyes and ·world distant curtains had been hung. The rocks alone were truly black-shadows clinging to the side of the cliff. They sealed the beach from the rest of the universe. And one must be a child so to love this hidden strip of sand; Refet thought. It was easy for a child to fall in love J 55

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with this sterility; this difficulty of access; these hostilities which needed subduing over and over again. He remembered the day when Davud had decided that the beach must be conquered from their cousin Kasim because, their troop being smaller, they needed the greater mobility afforded by the sea. That war had been a difficult war undertaken against their own kin in defense of the two orphan girls who had come unexpectedly among them. And as a result of that war Belkis and N ermin had stayed on the Island, thus permitting Davud to claim victory. Undoubtedly it had been a victory of sorts-but Ref et was not sure of this any longer. The hostilities had started the day after the girls' arrival. But before the hostilities there had been a war council held at night among the ruins of the Hristos Monastery. More than anything else, Ref et remembered that war council. It had taken place on a night like this, pale under the allconfusing moon. He could still see the solemn faces of the chiefs ringing the campfire, each with his troop behind him, attentive and silent and grave. He could still hear Kasim saying, "I was in the woods this afternoon when I saw them in front of the Selamlik. ·They were dressed in black. They remained close to each other and played. Yet, al though their gestures seemed full of fear and humility, I knew that there was danger in them. I asked myself, 'Will we never be done with the strangers?' Then I gathered my troop and went to the seashore. But I was too late." He had spoken in the ceremonial sentences which were the customary language of these meetings. Yes, they had been too late, Refet thought, too damned late in their dash to the garden of the Selamlik-Kasim and his troop of wild boys. Davud and he had arrived before56

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hand, mounted as they were, and hurrying after their lesson to talk with the black-clad strangers. Ref et remembered thinking: What can one say to orphans? And he could now hear Davud rnurmuring, "Don't be frightened, little girls, go on, play." "And now Davud Bey wants to protect these strangers although they have invaded my lands," Kasim had shouted. "He says they're orphans. But to me they are strangers come from the Mainland. Others will come after them, and we will find reasons to accept them too. Soon there will be no Island left. We shall lose whatever it is that makes us different. I do not want that to happen." He had walked over to where Davud was sitting. - "You are my cousin and my lord," he had said. "How can you not understand what I am trying to say? How can we fight against each other who love each other so?" Davud had said, "You may be right. Yet these are two little orphans who have taken refuge in our lands. If I helped you drive them away, or let you do it, what kind of a Tekinhan would I be, none of whose ancestors ever refused shelter or bread or protection to the weak?" How true each of them had been to the spirit of the family, Ref et thought: Kasim the embodiment of the life-saving savagery of the early years when any pity would have been suicide; Davud, of the greatness that had come later. Despite the attempts of the other chiefs Davud and Kasim remained adamant, like two irreconcilable passions cleaving a single soul, and war had been decided upon. In their hearts all had known that this would be a war different from those they had hitherto fought. They had honestly searched their consciences as to the side they must join. Davud had come out with the smaller army because Togrul ✓

57

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Meral, the stranger who had been more or less accepted among them, had thrown his troop of new boys to the side of Kasim. Actually, Refet had enjoyed the ensuing struggle. Both Davud and Kasim had been peerless in their leadership in battle; and the girls, surrounded by the army that was dedicated to their defense, soon were no longer frightened. They had learned to enjoy this life of violence and freedom which the Island and the Game connived in creating. In fact everybody had had a wonderful time except Togrul Meral. For some reason Refet had chosen him as his pet antagonist and harried him unmercifully. Kasim, too, perhaps ashamed of having this newcomer whom he despised in his army, had often withheld his support from him. Attacked by one side, half abandoned by the other, engaged in a battle which was not his own and whose deeper motives he never understood, poor Togrul had had an awfully bad time of it. But now he has won, Refet thought. What I have defended, he took away. As always, what we defended and tended and cared for, they took away. And suddenly he felt terrible tears come to his eyes. He got up and started to walk along the darker-thannight rocks. In the wall of the cliff there were many indentations, caverns, and crevasses where rubber canoes and weapons had been secreted. They were still there. He touched them. He had loved to play that game of war. He came to the narrow passage between fallen rock and cliff where there was a broken spear thrust into the sand, from which signals could be flown that were visible only to the eye of someone sitting in the ruins of the Byzantine monastery halfway up the hillside. It was from there that Davud had directed the intricate battles. Between that empire and this seashore realm messages had often been exchanged, and Kasim never 58

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understood how movements of enemy troops could be so well co-ordinated without runners traveling between the forces-and those he had taken every precaution to capture. These were difficult games to give up. I mustn't cry now, Refet thought. If I did, I would have played the games in vain. He stood motionless on the wet sand. He said to himself that it was time to go home to bed. He had been saying this for quite a while without being able to tear himself away. Yet there was nothing more to be done here.

59

'rhree

Once in a while Malini sallied forth from under the smoke and made his points, underlining them with a fierce arabesque of his cigar. Eyes half closed, his face expressing all the shades of boredom, Da vud slouched over the desk and listened. It appeared from Malini's excited state that during the last days his patience had been stretched to the breaking point. "Uncle," he was saying, "is supposed to work in Ankara but is spending all his time in Istanbul. Here opportunities are, of course, bigger. I mean opportunities for amusement. That man thinks of nothing else. I discovered that he'd been here for a whole week. And he has not called once. By the way, I don't wish to criticize you but it's your job to follow his movements." "He didn't say he was coming." "Ha I that's the point. I made my money through know60

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ing things that people did not tell me. Would not tell me." And the memory of how clever he had been seemed to fill him with momentary pleasure. Slowly Davud's attention wandered. "Uncle . . . armaments . . . money . . . commission .... losing sleep over it . . . important . . . " Up and doVtrn the room, waving his ludicrous cigar. Poor beggar. AH this was important to Malini, and on the Island other things were important. There it was important to be a Tekinhan committed to a vague gesture of defiance and here it was important to sit and listen to this horrible man. "What am I?" Davud asked himself. "What am I doing? VVhere am I going?" but before he could even begin to answer these questions he heard a knock. With visible ill humor Malini started toward the door, however, before he had reached it Azmi Kantemir walked in, preceded by a smile that was at once friendly and supercilious. "Good morning, Malini. Good morning, my boy." Azmi Kantemir exuded physical comfort and expensive eau de cologne. He had gained weight. He looked strong, successful, and lecherous. "It's a beautiful day. Pity you two are so devoted to this stuffy office. I trust your health will not break down under this airless regimen." "We are well, very well indeed. I'm glad you are able to give us an opportunity for an exchange-" and at this point Malini wavered, being unsure of him~elf in the difficult land of irony. "How pale you look," his uncle told Davud. "Is he working you too hard? Don't let him." "He's worried," Malini said. "V ~ry wrong at his age. Woman trouble, maybe. Speaking of_,,women, I have had a memorable fling these last days. 61

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Did me a lot of good. Feel much better than when I arrived." "Who was she?" Davud asked, while Malini ,vrithed with impatience. "Lovely Hungarian girl. Such perfect females that country produces." . · couId not stan d 1t . any Ionger. "Y es, " h e sa1. d , " we M a11n1 heard that you were spending considerable time at Madame A tin a' s." "Lived there, dear man." Azmi Kantemir stretched and yawned. "Had a grand time. I meant to call you as soon as I arrived, a week ago. But who should descend upon that hallowed establishment? None other than Sabri Kara, the most influential businessman in the country. I wonder whether you realize that I'm saying something momentous. Do you?" He looked from one to the other as though to measure their opacity as exactly as possible. Then he sighed and addressed himself to the task of penetrating it. "Sabri Kara is the soul, the inspirer, the architect of the arms deal. I trust you remember what I'm talking about." The breeze of banter which Azmi Kantemir had brought with him died down. Malini ensconced himself in his chair and began to watch. The time 4ad obviously come for him to observe every shift of expression, every slip, every hesitancy of the one ,vho was talking and was therefore committing himself. Azmi Kantemir continued: "Sabri Kara and I have made a plan. We didn't have one before-that's why you did not hear from me for quite a while." He stopped, giving the impression that this was the moment at which he expected an asinine comment from his listeners. As no word was breathed by either Davud or Malini, he went on speaking very slowly. "The G·overnment has ordered a great 62

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amount of military equipment in France. This is now ready for delivery. On the other hand, we know that the Franco Government is in the market for submachine guns, rifles, and srnall arms. They're paying very high prices." Malini: "They're paying a fifty-per-cent premium. Their man in France is a great friend of mine." Azmi Kantemir: "That's what I wanted to hear you say. Get in touch with him." Malini: "It's dangerous. It will get us involved with the military." Azmi Kantemir: "Don't worry, the military have absolutely nothing to do with it. Sabri Kara will take care of that. When shipping instructions are given, he will arrange 1t so that two hundred cases of machine guns and rifles, and double that amount of small arms, will be diverted to wherever the agent of the Franco Government says. Of course, it would be wise to have this delivery made through a third country. We will issue a regular sales contract and the price shown therein will be exactly the factory price. In this way our Government does not lose any money on the deal, and that's important. The matter is. reduced to a simple question of wrongly made-out shipping instructions." Malini: "What then?" Azmi Kantemir: "_1\ctually it is easy to make such an error because we're selling a lot of second-hand military equipment to Spain, and the papers might conceivably be mixed up. In any case, this contract will be filed in the Commercial Section of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and once in the files, it will take everybody months to discover what has happened." Malini: "You will file it?" ,,,. Aimi Kantemir: "Yes. You're really sharp today. Your 63 ./

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responsibility consists in negotiating with the Spaniards." "It sounds good," Malini said after a few seconds of silence. "We can do it if Sabri Kara doesn't let us down." "You think of the weirdest things. At present secondhand prices for Spain are as high as factory prices for new equipment. That will constitute further proof that the mix-up was nothing more than a clerical error." "It's dangerous but feasible. How do we proceed afterward?" "You obtain from your Spanish friend letters of credit matching the invoice value of the amounts I've told you and send them on to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. They'll come directly to me and be noiselessly cleared. I will then issue a Certificate of Authorization. You will collect the fifty-per-cent premium in cash from the same Spanish gentleman, subtract one half-which constitutes your share and mine-and deposit the remainder in various banks abroad according to instructions you will receive in due time.'' "Sabri Kara seems to trust me," Malini said thoughtfully. "He does, dear innocent lamb, in equal proportion to the infinite harm he and his friends can do you." Azmi Kantemir spoke slowly, in the tones of a man who completely controls a situation. He turned toward Davud. "I want you to have tea with me. Half past four sharp, at Lebon's. Good-by, children. Get to work. Start jumping." He left. Davud and Malini looked at each other like two wrestlers ready to grapple. But before Davud could open his mouth Malini began to issue orders. "I'm leaving tonight for France. Make all the arrangements for the trip. Also, cable the Ritz in Paris. I want a suite-a nice one with a view on the Place V endome. You heard your uncle: start jumping." 64

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As Davud went to the door Malini added, "I hope you're learning how a good executive works : fast decisions, fast action. Get going, young man. Let's make money."

2

Three days have already passed, Davud was thinking, and she hasn't called me. She said she would and she hasn't. God I why do I suffer so? A voice said, "I am glad that daily intercourse with commercial people has not impaired your habit of daydreaming." - Davud slowly focused his eyes on the face of the thickset 1nan v.1 ho had sat down at the table across from him. The heavy jowls, the strong teeth, the ready smile, indicated a hedonisn1 as well as a lazy kind of vitality; yet the receding chin belied the secret strength that the rest of the person seemed to state. "You're a poet at heart," Azmi Kantemir continued, "and that makes you one of my most cherished experiments. I want to see what Malini will do to a poet. How are you, dear boy? Let's have some tea. Tell me some scandalous gossip. I'm bored." All this was said in a slovr, toneless voice-the words floated out of the mouth in clusters, like gaggles of ponderous birds. "Is your love-life satisfying? You don't look well. Did you catch gonorrhea? Tell me immediately. I'll take you to my doctor. Now, did you?" "No, Uncle." "How unadventurous of you. Have an eclair. Lebon's are the hest in the world. Neither Vienna nor Paris-and of ✓ 65

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course London is out of the question-can boast of a tearoom to compare with this one. It's a pity you weren't around before r 9 r 4. This place was- really interesting then. Imagine, I was sitting over there during the whole time that the Revolution of 1908 lasted. Those stupid Young Turks. . . . I remained in here not so much because it was dangerous outside as because I was wearing a delightful new suit from' Poole and was deadly afraid that harm would come to it if I went into the street where the ragamuffins roamed. Those were the good times." He carefully poured himself some tea, then took a pastry and ate it. "How do you like life with Malini ?" "I'm learning a lot." "A lot of crookedness. Extraordinary how that man hates being honest. By the way, rumors of the Belkis-Togrul en• gagement have reached Ankara. I hear that his mother is not pleased at all. She probably wanted something more glamorous." "It's just gossip," Davud said. "And rather amusing, I find. I have also heard that Nermin will be living at the Merals' for the time being, so that her sister doesn't feel too lonely. Charming. Do you ever see her in Istanbul?" "She said she would call me." "And she didn't. Oh I my heart bleeds. Actually, I'm amazed at you and Refet. Great lovers, indeed. Why did you let them go so easily? In my time there would have been bloodshed. Perhaps it's better this way. You'll be able to devote your undivided attention to Malini. Now, my boy, far be it from me to suggest that I want you to spy upon your employer, but you must realize that he's a tricky individual and that the arms· deal is one hell of a big job I've 66

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brought him. He needs very careful watching. You understand me, don't you, little Davud? Here, have another eclair." Refet and I will have to get awfully drunk tonight, Davud thought. "It's big and rather dangerous, too, isn't it?" he asked. ''It is, for me. Once I've signed the Certificate of Authorization nothing can be permitted to go wrong. Otherwise my goose is cooked." "'Vhy are you in it?" "You watch Malini," Azmi Kantemir said. "Uncle, why are you in it?" Azmi Kantemir stopped smiling. It was as if the light had been switched off his face. "Questions," he muttered. "In my time it was rude to ask them of your elders." He drank some more tea; then, very deliberately, he said, "I'm in it because I need money." Davud did not dare open his mouth, and Azmi Kantemir held him for a few seconds under his cold gaze. Then his expression changed. "I want to retire, my boy." His voice was soft, and again one could not divine where the joke ended and deep earnestness began. "You didn't know I was a writer. I want to retire to a small house, lost somewhere in the woods, and write the definitive work on the conquest of Anatolia by the Turks. It's a wonderful story in which our families played capital roles. Yes, I wish to be the withdrawn little scholar whom people always see going to the public library and vaguely wonder about. That's all I want -and maybe a mistress whom I could train to become a good wife. That's all, really." He looked up, and apparently could not bear the expression he saw on his nephew's face. "Listen, Davud I Listen, my child! I'm in this because I ,/

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can no longer stand being the broken-down aristocrat in this Utopia that our new friends are joyfully a-building. Back in 1923 when the Empire, which was our world, came tumbling down, all of us committed a fatal mistake. Instead of going abroad we listened to your sainted grandfather's exhortations and stayed. Actually, no one knows what Yusuf Pasha had at the back of his mind when he engaged himself in that folly. Maybe he thought the Republic was a temporary affair, maybe he was too proud and didn't want people to think that he, the great Tekinhan, was deserting what he had served for so long. Who knows? Whatever went on in that finely convoluted brain of his, the result was the Island -and the Island as a symbol is the last remaining stronghold of the Ottoman Empire. I admit all this was beautiful, but it was also foolish." The couple who had occupied the table next to theirs had left a plate with two untouched eclairs. Azmi Kantemir leaned backward and picked it up. He put one eclair in front of him and attacked it savagely. "I too acted foolishly. I thought I could make my peace with the newcomers, and stayed on at my post. It was the worst thing I could have done. I did not know then that people of our background and traditions just cannot fit into this new world. And the horror of it is that it's not a bad world; on the contrary, it is good. The people now have something to look forward to : the farmer o,vns his land, the trader is protected, some kind of industry is beginning to grow. Even the foreigners treat us as though we were real human beings. Therefore the trouble is not with the country; the trouble is with us. We just cannot survive in it. I don't know what it is exactly: maybe we're ashamed for not having been the ones to bring these good times about. 68

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Maybe we're simply crazy. But no matter how you look at it, we cannot survive here. Try to understand: what I'm saying goes deeper than mere pride. I wouldn't mind being a dishwasher abroad, but I can no longer bear working as a minor clerk in my own country just because I don't belong to the present clique. Imagine, a minor clerk after twentythree years-what am I saying ?-seven hundred years of faithful service." Da vud had never before heard his uncle speak so consistently about anything. He liked him. He liked him a lot. "So, I decided to get some money by concocting the arms deal-to be able to retire into my dreams and bury myself in the past. Nobody will be hurt: I've made my plans so that - the Government won't lose a cent. In this country the past is the only atmosphere that you and I can breathe in comfort. If I were your age I would just leave and start my life in some distant land where the crushing burden of our name, traditions, and memories would not be such a terrible impediment.'' "Uncle," Davud asked, "are you advising me to run away?" But Azmi Kantemir was no longer with him. He said, "Heavens, no I I'm advising you to watch Malini very carefully and report to me everything that goes on in that office. Malini is not above trying to deceive me if it means a bigger cut for him." Suddenly Davud said, "I must go." "Come with me, child. We'll have dinner at Madame Atina's-the most elegant maison de passe in the whole world. You ought to start frequenting that place." "But, Uncle-" "How very unattractive boys of your age can be," Azmi ✓-

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Kantemir continued, looking his nephew straight in the eye. "The human male is born with a certain quantity of moral scruples which he spends his youth getting over. The best years of life wasted irremediably. What exactly do you think Madame Atina's is?" "I can still catch the seven o'clock boat," Davud said stubbornly. His uncle smiled, but Davud knew that he had not received permission to leave. "You think Madame Atina's is a brothel. You're wrong. It is a place of peace and luxury where a charming old woman-who, by the way, knew your father very well-dispenses whatever a gentleman may wish for. Some go there for the food, some for conversation, some for company, and a few for sex. For several decades now Madame Atina has been able to provide the best of all these things. Are you in love with a married woman whose husband is jealous? Madame Atina will arrange it so that you can meet her without any trouble. Are you lonely? Madame Atina is always surrounded by the most beautiful and cultivated women in town. Do your friends at the Club bore you? Those same people are positively scintillating when you see them at Madame Atina's. I don't know how she does it, and now I've passed the age of trying to comprehend the source or the meaning of the good things that come my way. So, won't you have dinner with me?" "I would like to be excused," Da vud said without look• 1ng up. Azmi Kantemir laughed. "That damned Island," he said . "All right, my boy, you may go." As Davud was leaving, his uncle added, "Tomorrow I'm returning to Ankara. You did understand everyth.ing I told you, didn't you?" 70

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"Yes, I did." Davud was already on his way. "Thank you for the tea." Azmi Kantemir waved. He was eating the last eclair.

3 N O"\V Davud leaned against the Gala ta Bridge and watched the boat that could have taken him to the Island leave-the seven o'clock boat. On the way from Lebon's he had decided not to go back. Instead he had called Refet, who said, "All right, I'll come over and we can make an evening of it; get really drunk and jolly." So, leaning against the heavy railings of the bridge, playing little mental games, Davud waited for his cousin. He wondered what those who saw him must think. They must think: There is an attractive young man-dark hair an