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my name is red-我的名字叫红-第132章

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spending  the  night  alone  in  fear  of  murderers  and  ghosts;  he  sent  along 
another note through me。” 
“What did he write?” 
369 
 
Thanks be to God that your unfortunate Esther can’t read or write; because 
when  irate  Effendis  and  irritable  fathers  ask  this  question;  she  can  say:  “I 
couldn’t  read  the  letter;  only  the  face  of  the  beautiful  maiden  reading  the 
letter。” 
“What did you read in Shekure’s face?” 
“Helplessness。” 
For a long time we didn’t speak。 Awaiting nightfall; an owl was perched on 
the dome of a small Greek church; runny…nosed neighborhood kids laughed at 
my  clothes  and  bundle;  and  a  mangy  dog  happily  scratching  himself  loped 
down from the cemetery lined with cypresses to greet the night。 
“Slow  down!”  I  shouted  at  Black  later;  “I  can’t  get  up  these  hills  the  way 
you can。 Where are you taking me with my satchel like this?” 
“Before you bring me to Hasan’s house; I’m taking you to some generous 
and brave young men so you can spread out your bundle and sell them some 
flowery handkerchiefs; silk sashes and purses with silver embroidery for their 
secret lovers。” 
It was a good sign that Black could still make jokes in his pitiable state; but I 
could  fathom  the  seriousness  behind  his  mirth。  “If  you’re  going  to  gather  a 
posse; I’ll never take you to Hasan’s house;” I said。 “I’m frightened to death of 
fights and brawls。” 
“If you continue to be the intelligent Esther you’ve always been;” he said; 
“there’ll be neither fight nor brawl。” 
We  passed  through  Aksaray  and  entered  the  road  heading  back;  straight 
toward  the  Langa  gardens。  On  the  upper  part  of  the  muddy  road;  in  a 
neighborhood that had seen happier days; Black walked into a barbershop that 
was  still  open。  I  saw  him  talking  to  the  master  barber  being  shaved  by  an 
honest…looking boy with lovely hands by the light of an oil lamp。 Before long; 
the barber; his handsome apprentice; and later; two more of his men joined up 
with  us  at  Aksaray。  They  carried  swords  and  axes。  At  a  side  street  in 
Shehzadebash?; a theology student; whom I couldn’t picture involved in such 
rough affairs; joined us in the darkness; sword in hand。 
“Do  you  plan  on  raiding  a  house  in  the  middle  of  the  city  in  broad 
daylight?” I said。 
“It’s not day; it’s night;” said Black in a tone more pleased than joking。 
370 
 
“Don’t  be  so  confident  just  because  you’ve  put  together  a  gang;”  I  said。 
“Let’s hope the Janissaries don’t catch sight of this fully equipped little army 
wandering around。” 
“No one will catch sight of us。” 
“Yesterday the Erzurumis first raided a tavern and then the dervish house 
at Sa??rkap?; beating up everyone they found in both places。 An elderly man 
who  took  a  blow  to  his  head  with  a  stick  died。  In  this  pitch  blackness;  they 
might think you’re of their lot。” 
“I hear you went to dearly departed Elegant Effendi’s house; saw his wife; 
God bless her; and the horse sketches with the smeared ink before relaying it 
all  to  Shekure。  Had  Elegant  Effendi  been  spending  a  lot  of  time  with  the 
henchmen of the preacher from Erzurum?” 
“If I sounded out Elegant Effendi’s wife; it was because I thought it might 
ultimately help my poor Shekure;” I said。 “Anyway; I’d gone there to show her 
the latest cloth which had e off the Flemish ship; not to involve myself in 
your  legal  and  political  affairs—which  my  poor  brain  couldn’t  fathom 
anyway。” 
As  we  entered  the  street;  which  ran  behind  Charsh?kap?;  my  heart 
quickened with fear。 The bare; wet branches of the chestnut and mulberry trees 
glimmered in the pale light of the half…moon。 A breeze kicked up by jinns and 
the  living  dead  rippled  the  laced  edging  of  my  satchel;  whistled  through  the 
trees and carried the scent of our group to neighborhood dogs lying in wait。 As 
they began to bark one by one; I pointed out the house to Black。 We stared 
quietly at its dark roof and shutters。 Black had the men take positions around 
the  house:  in  the  empty  garden;  on  either  side  of  the  courtyard  gate  and 
behind the fig trees in back。 
“In that entryway over there is a vile Tatar beggar;” I said。 “He’s blind; but 
he’ll   know   who’s   e   and   gone   along   this   street   better   than   the 
neighborhood headman does。 He continually plays with himself as if he were 
one of the Sultan’s vulgar monkeys。 Without letting your hand touch his; give 
him eight or ten silver pieces and he’ll tell you everything he knows。” 
From  a  distance;  I  watched  Black  hand  over  the  coins;  then  lay  his  sword 
against  the  throat  of  the  beggar  and  begin  to  pressure  him  with  questions。 
Next; I’m not sure how it happened; the barber’s apprentice; who I thought 
was simply watching the house; began to beat the Tatar with the butt of his 
axe。 I watched for a while; thinking it wouldn’t last; but the Tatar was wailing。 
I ran over and pulled the beggar away before they killed him。 
371 
 
“He cursed my mother;” said the apprentice。 
“He says that Hasan isn’t home;” Black said。 “Can we trust what this blind 
man says?” He handed me a note that he’d quickly written。 “Take this; bring it 
to the house; give it to Hasan; and if he’s not there; give it to his father;” he 
said。 
“Haven’t you written anything for Shekure?” I asked as I took the note。 
“If I send her a separate note; it’ll incite the men of the house even more;” 
Black said。 “Tell her I’ve found her father’s vile murderer。” 
“Is this true?” 
“Just tell her。” 
Chastising  the  Tatar;  who  was  still  crying  and  plaining;  I  quieted  him 
down。 “Don’t forget what I’ve done for you;” I said; ing to the realization 
that I’d drawn out the incident so I wouldn’t have to leave。 
Why had I stuck my nose into this affair? Two years ago in the Edirne Gate 
neighborhood  they’d  killed  a  clothes  peddlar—after  cutting  off  her  ears—
because  the  maiden  she’d  promised  to  one  man  married  another。  My 
grandmother used to tell me that Turks would often kill a man for no reason。 I 
longed to be with my dearest Nesim; at home having lentil soup。 Even though 
my feet resisted; I thought about how Shekure would be there; and walked to 
the house。 Curiosity was eating at me。 
“Clothierrr! I have new Chinese silks for holiday outfits。” 
I  sensed  the  orangish  light  filtering  out  between  the  shutters  move。  The 
door  opened。  Hasan’s  polite  father  invited  me  inside。  The  house  was  warm; 
like  the  houses  of  the  rich。  When  Shekure;  who  was  seated  at  a  low  dining 
table with her boys saw me; she rose to her feet。 
“Shekure;” I said; “your husband’s here。” 
“Which one?” 
“The  newer;”  I  said。  “He’s  surrounded  the  house  with  his  band  of  armed 
men。 They’re prepared to fight Hasan。” 
“Hasan isn’t here;” said the polite father…in…law。 
“How fortunate。 Take a look at this;” I s
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