carried the pot of stew from the roof, and Marta walked in behind her, a serious frown on her face, carrying a platter of pide. Everyone took a wedge of the bread and then dipped it, a piece at a time, into the communal pot.
Once they had all eaten their fill, Amina Hanim and Marta took what was left back to the kitchen. Abdul Hassan leaned back on his cushion and smiled.
âThank you for your help today,â he said. His eyes rested briefly first on Kevork, then Mariam, and finally on Anna.
Anna had cleaned the mud from her skin, and her pale complexion had a sore pink glow to it. There were bluish shadows under her red-rimmed eyes, but she smiled back at the Turk. âIt is our pleasure to help you,â she said. âWill you be taking the threshed wheat to Marash?â
âI will,â he said. âI was there a few weeks ago, and whatever I can bring will be sold for a good price. All over Adana, the wheat is being left unharvested.â
Anna opened her mouth as if to reply, but then closed it again.
âWere you going to say something?â asked Abdul Hassan.
âNo,â said Anna.
Mariam looked from one to the other. She knew what Anna was about to say: had the Armenians not been killed, there wouldnât be this crisis now.
âDid it ever occur to you that I might agree with what you have to say?â Abdul Hassan asked Anna, with a touch of impatience in his voice. âIt was wrong for the Sultan to initiate the massacres. He has been charged with his crimes and he has been deposed.â
Mariamâs mouth opened slightly with surprise.
âKilling Armenians makes as much sense as Mother Turkey chopping off her right hand,â said Abdul Hassan. âWe will all be paying for this for a long time.â
Amina Hanim had come back from the kitchen and was standing in the doorway with Marta beside her. The look on her face showed that she was not comfortable with the turn in conversation. âShould I serve the coffee, Abdul-Agha?â she asked gently.
He turned towards her and frowned, but when he noticed her expression, his annoyance softened. âYes wife,â he said. âThat would be fine.â
After coffee and conversation on more neutral topics, it was time to go to bed.
Amina Hanim opened one of the doors off the common room and said, âLadies, follow me.â
Marta looked at Mariam with a question in her eyes, and Mariam returned with a look that meant, âDo as youâre told.â The girls stepped towards the door with Anna.
âTake me with you,â said Onnig.
âOur haremlik is small,â said Amina Hanim to the little boy. âCanât you sleep with Kevork and my husband in the salemlik?â
âWhy canât we all sleep together in this room?â asked Onnig, pointing to all the cozy pillows on the floor.
Amina Hassan smiled indulgently. The concept was entirely foreign to her. âWhat an interesting idea, child.â Then she looked at Kevork. âHeâll be all right with you, wonât he?â
Kevork nodded. âHeâll be fine.â
Mariam didnât know what to expect when she stepped through the door to the haremlik, but it certainly wasnât what she found. It was made up of just one plain room, and there were ledges built into the walls on all four sides. Two walls of the ledges were lined with Turkish carpets, and the other two were bare. In the middle of the room was a tonir sunk into the floor, with cushions around it.
âIt is cool enough tonight that you might want to sleep by the warmth of the tonir,â said Amina Hanim, âbut if you prefer, you can sleep by the wall.â
Mariam and Marta cuddled up together on pillows beside the tonir. Anna slept beside them, and Amina Hanim chose a spot against the wall.
Had Kevork been able to compare, he would have realized that the salemlik was much more carefully furnished than the haremlik. Abdul Hassan had