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my name is red-我的名字叫红-第89节

小说: my name is red-我的名字叫红 字数: 每页4000字

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anything from the illustrations。 Nevertheless; he couldn’t refrain from drawing 
Our Sultan’s attention to the horses in these magnificent paintings: the way 
one reared; the delicate stance of the next and; in the third; a dignity and pride 
matching  the  content  of  ancient  books。  Meanwhile;  he  speculated  about 
which  artist  had  made  each  picture;  and  the  pageboy  who’d  gone  door  to 
door to the artists’ houses confirmed what Master Osman said。 
“My Sovereign; don’t be surprised that I know my painters like the back of 
my  hand;”  said  the  master。  “What  bewilders  me  is  how  one  of  these  men; 
whom  I  indeed  know  like  the  back  of  my  hand;  could  make  a  pletely 
unfamiliar mark。 For even the flaw of a master miniaturist has its origins。” 
“You mean to say?” said Our Sultan。 
“Your  Excellency;  Prosperous  Sultan  and  Refuge  of  the  World;  in  my 
opinion; this concealed signature; evident here in the nostrils of this chestnut 
horse;  is  not  simply  the  meaningless  and  absurd  mistake  of  a  painter;  but  a 
sign  whose  roots  reach  into  the  distant  past  to  other  pictures;  other 
techniques; other styles and perhaps even other horses。 If we were allowed to 
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examine the marvelous pages of centuries…old books that You keep under lock 
and key in the cellars; iron chests; and cabis of the Inner Treasury; we might 
be able to identify as technique what we now see as mistake; then; we could 
attribute it to the brush of one of the three miniaturists。” 
“You wish to enter my Treasury?” said the Sultan in amazement。 
“That is my wish;” said my master。 
This  was  a  request  as  brazen  as  asking  to  enter  the  harem。  Just  then;  I 
understood that in as much as the harem and the Treasury occupied the two 
prettiest spots in the courtyard of the Private Paradise of Our Sultan’s Palace; 
they also occupied the two dearest spots in Our Sultan’s heart。 
I was trying to read what would happen from Our Sultan’s beautiful face; 
which I could now look upon without fear; but He suddenly vanished。 Had He 
been incensed and offended? Would we; or even the miniaturists as a whole; 
be punished on account of my master’s impudence? 
Looking  at  the  three  horses  before  me;  I  imagined  that  I  would  be  killed 
before  seeing  Shekure  again;  without  ever  sharing  her  bed。  Despite  the 
immediacy  of  all  their  beautiful  attributes;  these  magnificent  horses  now 
seemed to have emerged from a quite distant world。 
I thoroughly realized during this horrifying silence that just as being taken 
into the heart of the palace as a child; being raised here and living here meant 
serving Our Sultan and perhaps dying for Him; so being a miniaturist meant 
serving God and dying for the sake of His beauty。 
Much  later;  when  the  Head  Treasurer’s  men  brought  us  up  toward  the 
Middle Gate; death occupied my mind; the silence of death。 But; as I passed 
through the gate where countless pashas had been executed; the guards acted 
as if they didn’t even see us。 The Divan Square; which yesterday had dazzled 
me as if it were Heaven itself; the tower and the peacocks didn’t affect me in 
the least; for I knew that we were being taken further inside; to the heart of 
Our Sultan’s secret world; to the Private Quarters of the Enderun。 
We  passed  through  doors  barred  even  to  the  Grand  Viziers。  Like  a  child 
who’d  entered  a  fairy  tale;  I  kept  my  eyes  trained  on  the  ground  to  avoid 
ing face…to…face with the wonders and creatures that might confront me。 I 
couldn’t even look at the chamber where the Sultan held audiences。 But my 
gaze happened to fall momentarily on the walls of the harem near an ordinary 
plane tree; one no different from other trees; and on a tall man in a caftan of 
shimmering  blue  silk。  We  passed  among  towering  columns。  Finally;  we 
stopped  before  a  portal;  larger  and  more  imposing  than  the  rest;  framed  in 
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ornate stalactite patterns。 At its threshold stood Treasury chiefs in glimmering 
caftans; one of them was bending to open the lock。 
Staring directly into our eyes; the Head Treasurer said: “You are truly blessed 
by fortune; His Excellency Our Sultan has granted you permission to enter the 
treasury of the Enderun。 There; you will examine books that no one else has 
seen;  you  will  gaze  upon  incredible  pictures  and  pages  of  gold;  and  like 
hunters; you will track the spoor of your prey; the murderer。 My Sultan bade 
me remind you that good Master Osman has three days—one of which is now 
over—until Thursday noon; in which to name the culprit in the miniaturists’ 
midst; failing that; the matter shall be turned over to the mander of the 
Imperial Guard to be resolved by torture。” 
First; they removed the cloth sheath around the padlock; sealed to ensure 
no  key  entered  the  keyhole  without  permission。  The  Doorkeeper  of  the 
Treasury  and  the  two  chiefs  confirmed  the  seal  was  intact;  signaling  with  a 
nod。 The seal was broken; and when the key was introduced; the lock opened 
with a clatter that filled the pervasive silence。 Master Osman suddenly turned 
an  ashen  gray。  When  one  wing  of  the  heavy;  embellished…wood  double  door 
was opened; his face was struck by a dark radiance that seemed a remnant of 
ancient days。 
“My  Sultan  didn’t  want  the  scribal  chiefs  and  the  secretaries  who  keep 
inventory records to enter unnecessarily;” said the Head Treasurer。 “The Royal 
Librarian  has  passed  away  and  there’s  no  one  to  look  after  the  books  in  his 
stead。  For  this  reason;  My  Sultan  has  manded  that  Jezmi  Agha  alone 
should acpany you within。” 
Jezmi  Agha  was  a  dwarf  with  bright;  shining  eyes  who  appeared  to  be  at 
least seventy years old。 His headdress; which resembled a sail; was even more 
peculiar than he。 
“Jezmi  Agha  knows  the  interior  of  the  treasury  like  his  own  house;  he 
knows the locations of books and all else better than anyone。” 
The aging dwarf displayed no pride in this。 He was running an eye over the 
silver…legged  heating  brazier;  the  chamber  pot  with  a  mother…of…pearl  inlaid 
handle; the oil lamp and the candlesticks that the palace pages were carrying。 
The Head Treasurer announced that the door would again be locked behind 
us and sealed with the seventy…year…old sig of Sultan Selim the Grim。 After 
the  evening  prayers;  at  sunset;  the  seal  would  again  be  broken;  before  the 
witness  of  the  attendant  crowd  of  Treasury  chiefs。  Moreover;  we  should 
exercise  great  caution  that  nothing  whatsoever  “mistakenly”  found  its  way 
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into  our  clothes;  pockets  or  sashes:  we  would  be  searched  down  to  our 
undergarments upon exiting。 
We entered; passing between chiefs standing at either side。 Inside; it was ice 
cold。  When  the  door  closed  behind  us;  we  were  enveloped  in  blackness。  I 
smelled a bination of mildew; dust and humidity that drove deep into my 
nasal   passages。   Everywhere   the   clutter   of   objects;   chests   and   helmets 
intermingled in a huge chaotic jumble。 I had the feeling that I was witness to a 
great battle。 
My  eyes  adjusted  to  the  odd  light  that  fell  over  the  entire  space;  which 
filtered through the thick bars of the high windows; through the balustrades 
of the stairs along the high walls and the railing of the second…floor wooden 
walkways。  This  chamber  was  red;  tinged  with  the  color  of  the  velvet  cloth; 
carpets and kilims hanging on the walls。 With due reverence; I considered how 
the accumulation of all this wealth was the consequence of wars waged; blood 
spilt and cities and treasuries plundered。 
“Frightened?”   asked   the   elderly   dwarf;   giving   voice   to   my   feelings。 
“Everybody is frightened on their first visit。 At night the spirits of these objects 
whisper to each other。” 
What was frightening was the silence in which this abundance of incredible 
objects  was  interred。  Behind  us  we  heard  the  clattering  of  the  seal  being 
affixed to the lock on the door; and we looked around in awe; motionless。 
I saw swords; elephant tusks; caftans; silver candlesticks and satin banners。 I 
saw mother…of…pearl inlaid boxes; iron trunks; Chinese vases; belts; long…necked 
lutes;  armor;  silk  cushions;  model  globes;  boots;  furs;  rhinoceros  horns; 
ornamented ostrich eggs; rifles; arrows; maces and cabis。 There were heaps 
of carpets; cloth and satin everywhere; seemingly cascading over me from the 
wood…paneled  upper  floors;  from  the  balustrades;  the  built…in  closets  and 
small storage cells built into the walls。 A strange light; the likes of which I’d 
never seen; shone on the cloth; the boxes; the caftans of sultans; swords; the 
huge pink candles; the wound turbans; pillows embroidered with pearls; gold 
filigree  saddles;  diamond…handled  scimitars;  ruby…handled  maces;  quilted 
turbans;  turban  plumes;  curious  clocks;  ewers  and  daggers;  ivory  statues  of 
horses 

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