Controller of the Sultan’s concubines
Is Nigar Kalfa, Macedonian slave.
But for the unattainable she pines;
For Ibrahim, Grand Vizier, the brave.
But whispered is the lie that he’s a knave,
And soon his hopes great Suleiman will wreck —
His body buried in an unmarked grave,
A twisted cord around his loyal neck.
By terror are all subjects kept in check,
So Nigar far from Istanbul must flee.
With babe in arms through forests she must trek.
Soon she is trapped, and sets the baby free.
She spreads her arms and to her death she falls;
And from a hidden grave a spirit calls.
— D.N. O’Brien