My Life. My Only One.

The Guard

Aziz arrived at the governors palace shortly after sundown. He instructed the driver of the carriage to take him to the jails entrances. He had received a message from Nihat saying that a close friend was in need of assistance due to a misunderstanding. Aziz didn't give it much thought as he knew that many people requested his services in the jails and when he had the time he would go at no cost. It was his duty and his calling. He understood better than most what it was like to be accused of something you didn't do and be branded a thief, a liar, a miscreant or worse. He waited as the jailer searched him for any possessions that might be used to aid a prisoner in their attempt to escape. The jailer waived him in and he asked for Civan, which was the name written down on the message that Nihat had sent. The jailer asked him to follow him and they both descended several floors before the jailer stopped and passed him on to another guard. Aziz turned from one man to the next in confusion "I don't understand why am not being taken to the jails. We have walked down all the levels and still I have not met with my subject Civan." The jailer and the guard both looked at one another. The guard handed the jailer a small bag that clinked with coins as he put it under his cloak. Aziz watched with trepidation as he became wary of what these two men were doing. Turning on his heal the jailer went back from where he came and the guard spoke for the first time. "Aziz Bey please follow me". He turned and walked up to a solid wall but then he reached above him to where the wall was illuminated by a sconce and pulled it down toward the ground and the wall opened up revealing a long set of stairs leading into the depths of what he could only call hell. Aziz looked up at the guard saying "what is this place? I have never known there to be more cells below this floor. Who is in command here?." The guard said nothing but simply began descending the stairs and didn't look back to see if Aziz followed. Aziz looked around him once more and entered the pathway and then began to descend the stairs as well. Soon they had come to a landing and turned to descend another long group of stairs before arriving in a large empty area with a few benches and a table. The guard walked up to the table where another guard was sleeping and lifted up his head and let it drop back down assuring himself that the man was sound asleep and would remain that way for the rest of the night. Slowly the guard removed his official cloak and belt and then to Aziz's surprise he removed his beard and brows. Aziz starred at the man as he realized that before him stood Yigit Erdogan. Son of the governor.

Can and Emre had gone through the plan several times making sure that each time they rehearsed a different set of scenarios in case something went wrong. "Abi, I think if we prepare the boat in case we are forced to flee and moor it on the opposite side of the port in a small inlet we will save ourselves time and throw our pursuers off by hours". Can nodded his head up and down "brilliant Emre. You may be right and if it is not needed then we have lost nothing in exchange." Can walked around the table they had been sitting at and looked at the cream in the blue glass pot and the small box of chamomile tea he had brought with him along with the golden rings his mother had given him. He was feeling nervous and needed to walk of some energy before beginning the tasks of the day. He looked out onto the gardens and his thoughts immediately went to Sanem. He just couldn't understand how or why his mind was filled with her. Her face, her scent and her sweetness that still was fresh, after all this time; in his memories. All at once he became irritable and told his brother he was leaving and to NOT follow him this time. He wanted and needed to be alone to think. Emre raised his hands in surrender and with a exaggerated wave of his arms and bowing before Can invited him to leave.

Sanem paced the floor of her rooms and sat at her desk. She had not spoken to Ayhan since she last saw her at the bazar the week previous. She missed her friend and didn't know when she would see her next. The betrothal was set for Friday evening and all she had left was today. Today was the last time she would be free, under the protection of her father; to do as she liked. To come and go with relative freedom and to choose for herself what to wear, say or do. She picked up the quil in her hand and dipped it in the ink. She poured out her feelings into her journal. She wrote for most of the morning until Leyla knocked on her door asking to come in. "Come in Abla ". Leyla walked in and sat on Sanem's bed looking at her sister and wondering how things would be so different without her in the home. Sanem turned to Leyla and both women got up and embraced. They cried the tears they had withheld for over a week and then cried the tears they would need to withhold tomorrow. Getting control of their emotions they parted and sat on the bed to talk.