The Turbulent Situation
This was not an era in which plagues were rare.
Among the princes alive now, some would one day lose their lives to epidemic disease, so it was only right to assume that anyone could die of plague at any time.
Thus, there was something that had to be asked first.
“What kind of infectious disease is it?”
Even just off the top of his head, there were more than a few possibilities.
That remained true even excluding diseases like cholera, which were still at the level of endemic illnesses and did not yet need to be feared as epidemics.
“Judging by the letter’s description of rashes and blisters as the main symptoms, it seems to be smallpox.”
Even in Europe alone, it claimed tens of thousands of victims every year, and in historical dramas, whenever there was an uproar over a plague breaking out, most of the time it was this smallpox.
Though the fact that it was commonly seen did not mean it was not dangerous.
“What is the possibility of it spreading to us?”
“They will be making efforts there as well, so as long as we properly control those coming in from the Circassian side, we should be fine.”
Medicine was not developed compared to the modern era; it was not that the people of this age were stupid.
Having already fought plagues countless times, they knew basic disease-control measures such as blockades, quarantines, and burning the belongings of patients, and in the case of those who had prolonged contact with patients, they even used masks that completely covered the face.
Thanks to that, unless it was a special case like the Black Death, diseases did not spread completely out of control.
‘I suppose I should be glad it isn’t the Black Death.’
The fourteenth-century Black Death was so famous that it overshadowed everything else, but even in the twenty-first century, people still died of plague.
In this era without antibiotics, the Black Death was a direct train to Allah.
Thinking it fortunate that it was at least smallpox, Yusuf asked Şemsi,
“Why do you think the epidemic is spreading, Pasha?”
One might wonder what reason there could be for an epidemic spreading, but large-scale outbreaks usually had some kind of underlying environment.
“Would it not be because of the chaotic situation in the north?”
“Right?”
At present, the north showed a complicated state of affairs, with the Kipchak Khanate, born from the lands inherited by Jochi, Genghis Khan’s eldest son; the Grand Duchy of Moscow, the predecessor of Russia; and the Crimean Khanate, a plundering machine, all fighting one another.
Just as a passerby might be bloodied for no reason when a brawl broke out nearby, Circassia’s situation was exactly like that.
Villages reduced to ruins because raiders invaded constantly, and even corpses left unattended.
It was an environment in which it would not be strange at all for an epidemic to spread.
While Yusuf and Şemsi were briefly exchanging information, Sinan arrived, apparently having heard of the situation.
“You heard?”
“I heard it was smallpox.”
“If you already heard, there’s no need to explain it separately. How is the current progress?”
At this question, Sinan spoke in an apologetic voice.
“For now, we have discovered cowpox and collected it separately, but it is not enough for many people to use right away.”
“Even if we artificially induce it in cows or horses?”
Sinan, who did not seem to have thought that far, pondered for a moment but still gave a negative answer.
“Even if we secure enough material to inoculate them that way, we still have no proper results yet. The problem is whether the other side will trust it.”
At Sinan’s apt point, Yusuf nodded.
If they suddenly showed up and thrust forward a method no one had ever heard of or seen before, there was no way they would simply believe it.
They would think it was some kind of trick.
Even Sinan, who was handling the work himself, was half in doubt, so hoping they would believe it was too much.
“If someone of high status went in person and vouched for it, maybe. But realistically, that’s impossible.”
Those who could inspire that level of trust were Yusuf, Şemsi, or Fatima.
One of those three would have to go, but this was not something that would be resolved in a month or two, so it was impossible for any of them.
After thinking it over from several angles, Yusuf made his decision.
“It’s regrettable, but let’s not intervene in this matter. Sinan, there is a chance it could spread to us as well, so collect as much cowpox as possible.”
“Understood.”
At the reasonable decision, the two bowed their heads in agreement.
It was an opportunity to form a deep bond with Circassia, but there was no need to cling to something impossible.
The matter, which he thought would end like this, changed late that evening when Ayşe came to see him.
It had been only half a year, but just as Yusuf had grown, Ayşe had changed a great deal as well.
As she gradually crossed from girlhood into womanhood, her beauty had blossomed, to the point that rumors circulated that the men of the castle pined after seeing her.
If the prince who firmly held Trabzon in his grasp had not been behind her, there would have been no shortage of men trying something with her.
“What is it, when I did not even summon you?”
“I heard about the matter of House Ader. Please send me.”
At Ayşe’s words, Yusuf furrowed his brow and waved his hand as if there was nothing worth hearing.
“That matter is already over. Go back.”
“Your Highness.”
Instead of turning away at his order to go back, Ayşe took one step forward and met Yusuf’s eyes.
In her vividly shining green eyes, he could sense firm resolve.
There was no time when the emotion-reading trait was more annoying than at moments like this.
“Fine, I’ll at least hear you out. What do you want to say?”
“I heard it from Lord Sinan. You said that those who have suffered from the disease transmitted through cow’s milk do not catch smallpox. I had it two years ago as well.”
The very reason the method of vaccination had been discovered was because people noticed that milkmaids did not catch smallpox, so it would not be strange if Ayşe had immunity.
Before she was taken as a slave, she must have lived doing such work.
“So?”
“It means that even if I go, I will not catch it.”
Like other vaccines, the effect of vaccination waned as time passed after inoculation, but if it had only been two years ago, the effect would be sufficient.
“It has not been properly confirmed yet.”
“Since it is something Your Highness said, I do not doubt it.”
He had said it deliberately to test her, but there was not the slightest doubt in Ayşe’s eyes.
It was the first time someone had placed such faith in him without even the smallest doubt, and he felt as if the words had caught in his throat.
Being moved was one thing, and granting Ayşe’s request was another.
“Still, no.”
“Did I not promise Your Highness? That if it was for Your Highness and House Ader, I would do anything. I believe this is the time to keep that promise.”
He remembered.
He had even promised to grant her wish if she proved useful.
But she was misunderstanding the context of the problem.
“That promise is not what matters. I mean that even if you go there, it will be of no help.”
What would change just because a single slave went?
At Yusuf’s cold words, Ayşe smiled faintly and said,
“Does that not depend on what status I go with? I shall go with the status of being Your Highness’s woman.”
“Ha.”
Yusuf snorted.
It was centuries too early for the First Lady to assist with diplomacy. In this era, sending a woman to another country was something done when she was meant as a gift.
The idea was admirable, but it did not fit the times.
“If you think they will meekly follow your words simply because you go as my concubine, you’re mistaken. You may even be insulted instead.”
“Would that not depend on my abilities? I will do my utmost for Your Highness and for House Ader’s future. And in this matter, there is no need to fear failure.”
He did not like it, but as Ayşe said, even if they failed, there would be no great loss.
Unless Circassia completely lost its mind and started swinging blades, it would only cost a little time and money.
Yusuf excluded emotion and calculated as coldly as he could.
If this succeeded, they could build a friendly relationship with Circassia and prove that cowpox could be used to prevent smallpox.
If it was proven, they could make vaccination public and gain fame.
Considering that gathering a support base in the civil war was also important, he needed to build his reputation quickly.
When weighed out, attempting it was better, but the words that came from Yusuf’s mouth were brusque.
“I don’t recall saying I would accept you as my concubine.”
Sensing that his opposition had weakened, Ayşe smiled brightly.
“You can think of it as giving me the price of the promise in advance. It was my wish.”
“You foolish girl.”
She could have just said that.
Clicking his tongue briefly, Yusuf rose from his seat and stroked Ayşe’s face.
“I have no intention of letting go of what has come into my hands. Don’t blame me if you regret it later.”
“Would that not be better than regretting it now?”
“You had best put returning in good health first. If you don’t want your homeland, Circassia, to become a sea of flames.”
“I will make certain to return unharmed.”
Ayşe carefully took a black hijab from her breast.
“I would like Your Highness to be the first to put it on me.”
Even in religions other than Islam, most women of this era covered their skin with veils and the like when they went about.
The hijab was not a unique item in this age, but the hijab she was now holding out carried the meaning of becoming the prince’s woman.
For without exception, the prince’s women had to convert to Islam.
With clumsy hands, Yusuf wrapped the hijab around her, and Ayşe looked delighted.
It was the day their relationship changed.
∗ ∗ ∗
Yusuf and Ayşe’s decision caused a small commotion in the territory, but everyone agreed that it was an opportunity too regrettable to miss.
Those who would travel together, including Ayşe and Sinan, were immediately selected, and a group of roughly fifty, who had even received preventive inoculations, departed for Circassia.
It would be a long farewell expected to last at least half a year.
Feeling a strange emptiness, Yusuf asked Arda to teach him the sword in order to shake off his distracting thoughts.
“When you swung the sword, your weight shifted too far forward. You must do it again.”
“I’m going to die!”
He was regretting it.
During training, there was not the slightest leniency.
His hands trembled, his legs throbbed, and his entire body was drenched in sweat.
Starting the morning with muscle pain now felt all too familiar.
Watching Yusuf swing his sword over and over, Arda nodded.
“Still, this is better than when the sword was swinging the man. If you work hard for about half a year, you should be able to reach the level of an ordinary soldier.”
Wow, a soldier.
He was not happy at all.
Yusuf asked, struck by a sudden curiosity.
“How skilled was Brother Selim?”
“Hmm… not bad. He was about on par with a sipahi who’s lacking in skill.”
For a prince, that was excellent.
It seemed he lived up to that bandit-leader face of his.
After sweating to his heart’s content, Yusuf was about to return to his office when a sipahi hurrying urgently caught his eye.
“What is it?”
“Sanjakbey! An urgent dispatch.”
For an instant, Ayşe came to mind, but Yusuf dismissed the possibility.
They would know full well that the moment they harmed the envoy he had sent, they would bring down consequences they could not handle.
Yusuf examined the contents of the urgent dispatch he had been handed, then tilted his head.
“An envoy is coming from Samtskhe?”
It was right next door, so it was not strange for them to come, but they were not friendly enough to visit without any particular reason.
After all, it was a region suffering because of the Ottomans, who were always looking for a chance to swallow it.
When Yusuf saw the name of the person in charge of the delegation, he smiled with interest.
“So Mzechabuk is coming in person.”
He was a prince of Samtskhe and the younger brother of Samtskhe’s current lord.
After his elder brother died and his nephew inherited the position, he rose to the role of atabeg, a sort of regent, and wielded power.
He was also someone Yusuf was personally curious about.
“An elder brother who died two years after ascending, and an ambitious younger brother who then became regent.”
Could it really have been a coincidence?
Somehow, Yusuf had the feeling he could make a decent partner.
∗ ∗ ∗
Ayşe furrowed her smooth brow.
They had shown confusion and aversion at the sudden arrival of an Ottoman delegation, but once she revealed where she was from, their attitude changed.
Amid their hospitality, the representatives of the twelve tribes that made up the Circassians gathered one after another.
‘Until then, I thought things would proceed easily.’
She had even looked forward to quickly producing results and returning to Yusuf.
That had been a hasty thought.
“If it is a method effective enough for the prince of the empire himself to guarantee it, then it should begin in places where the plague has not yet spread.”
“That is also a valid point, but we must be cautious. This is none other than a pestilence, is it not? How about we first administer it to only a few people and observe the results?”
“Which tribe should step forward first to verify it is also a problem.”
It was a meeting that had gone nowhere for over a month already.
At first, she had actively participated in the meetings and tried to make matters proceed smoothly, but the same discussions had already been repeated dozens of times.
At this point, even a fool could not fail to grasp their true intent.
‘It means they have no intention of accepting the empire’s help.’
Ayşe looked at the tribal representatives with cold eyes.
They were not fools, nor was this simply an emotional decision.
There was the resentment toward the empire that had built up over many years, and the anxiety over what demands might follow after receiving its help.
On top of that, they were already preventing the plague from spreading through quarantine, so their need for help was not desperate.
For a complex set of reasons, they were merely dragging their feet, and to Ayşe, who had once been ruled by them, it was an infuriating situation.
‘So this is how they have always hidden behind the sacrifices of a few and looked only to their own safety.’
Since she and her homeland had been among those sacrifices, she had no desire to understand them.
The more she watched them put on this ugly display, the more one person came to mind.
‘At least the prince would not have done this.’
That did not mean he was kind or possessed an outstanding love for the people. If he had, he would not have thrown his own fief into chaos for the sake of a power struggle.
However, he was not the sort to watch meaningless, repeated sacrifices either.
Ayşe, who had been watching the meeting where they only raised their voices pointlessly with numb indifference, rose from her seat.
She had watched enough of their playacting.
When she stood up in the middle of the meeting, all eyes gathered on her.
“Rather than continue watching this, I would be better off packing my things.”
At Ayşe’s words, the representative of the Besleney, one of the twelve tribes, spoke as if regretful.
“You came all this way from the empire to offer help, and I am sorry to send you back like this.”
“There is no need for you to concern yourself so.”
Contrary to their words, their relief was plain to see, and Ayşe gave them a sneer.
“Because I intend to go directly to the plague-stricken region.”
“What?!”
“You absolutely cannot go without our permission!”
As expected, fierce opposition erupted, and Ayşe replied coldly.
“Then will you stop me by force?”
They instantly became mute as if they had swallowed honey.
She was none other than the prince’s woman.
They were in a position where they had to care for her without letting so much as a hair on her head be harmed. If they oppressed her as she had said, there was a high chance they would suffer the empire’s retaliation.
Seeing that they could not properly stop her, Ayşe turned away without lingering attachment, and as she left the meeting hall, she said to Sinan,
“We will have to proceed as planned.”
“So it has come to this after all.”
They had already discussed it beforehand, so there was nothing to be surprised about, and Ayşe said to her guard,
“Tell Asker as well. It is time to spread the rumors.”
“Understood.”
It had already been over a month since they arrived, and since the representatives of each tribe had gathered, those who were in a position to know why the empire had come already knew.
Asker, who had crossed over first in accordance with Yusuf’s orders, was to spread rumors favorable to the empire and unfavorable to the tribal chiefs.
‘First, shake the board with rumors and widen the cracks.’
As rumors spread and they achieved results in the plague-stricken region, cracks would form even among the tribes that now seemed tightly united.
There were twelve tribes, after all. There was no way all of them were on good terms.
Furthermore, if things went well, they might even be able to shake up the succession structures of each tribe.
‘This is probably what the prince would have done.’
Creating division through rumors and results, then seizing the initiative.
It was the method Yusuf had already demonstrated, and Ayşe brought it out exactly as it was.
Since it had already been planned, they were able to finish preparing to leave before they could be obstructed.
Ayşe looked around at the faces of the party who had finished preparing for departure.
Since they were about to enter the heart of the plague, fear and tension showed on their faces.
‘Once we go inside, smallpox won’t be the only thing we have to worry about, so it can’t be helped.’
Inside the quarantine, public order would be unstable, so they could be attacked at any time, and with sanitation likely having worsened even further, they might contract other diseases besides smallpox.
Recalling the explanations Yusuf had drilled into her to the point of tedium before departure, Ayşe smiled faintly.
“I miss him already.”
Even if she missed him, she had no intention of returning empty-handed.
With both anxiety and anticipation in their hearts, Ayşe’s party entered the heart of the plague and became the eye of the storm.
∗ ∗ ∗
Mzechabuk Jaqeli.
Jaqeli was the family name, and his given name was Mzechabuk.
Because it was a Georgian name, it was difficult to memorize, but though this man had enough significance to leave his name in the history books, he was of a far lower grade even compared to Yusuf, whose chances of succession were at rock bottom.
“For now, his elder brother is the lord of the principality.”
His elder brother, who had taken the ruler’s seat two years earlier, was regarded as a wise and educated ruler, and he maintained good relations with the other Georgian kingdoms.
It was a rule without flaws, which meant there was no chance that Mzechabuk would obtain the right to rule.
Unless his elder brother died.
“Honestly, whether he killed him himself doesn’t matter. What matters is that he’s someone who will seize the right to rule.”
If Yusuf had to make an analogy, he was like an undervalued blue-chip stock whose price would soar within a year.
He had already thought of more than one way to use him.
“Not that I plan to give him a lavish welcome just because he may be useful.”
Even if one treated an ambitious person well, most of the time they failed to know gratitude, so it was necessary to raise the whip first.
Yusuf’s thoughts were reflected exactly as they were, and the first thing the delegation encountered upon entering the Sanjak of Trabzon was over a hundred sipahis.
Naturally, the delegates protested.
“How can you oppress us like this!”
“We would rather return!”
Even that resistance did not last long, because of the sipahis staring at them with murderous glints in their eyes.
At the sight, more threatening than he had expected, the complexion of Mzechabuk, who led the delegation, also darkened.
He could sense that, for reasons unknown, things had gone wrong before they had even begun.
The delegation, half-dragged to Trabzon Castle, looked surprised at the sight of Trabzon, which was livelier than they had expected.
‘It has not been long since such a major disturbance occurred, and yet it has already recovered?’
It had not been long since the prince had turned the fief upside down, yet there was not a trace of fear on the people’s faces.
If the intelligence was not false, that meant the prince’s ability to govern was that outstanding.
“It is a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to Trabzon.”
Because of that, they could not help but be surprised once more when they saw the prince welcoming them from the seat of honor.
‘I knew he was young, but he is practically a child.’
‘Does he have capable subordinates? That seems more likely.’
More than a few of them were so flustered that their emotions showed plainly.
Yusuf raised one corner of his mouth at them.
“It seems everyone’s minds are in turmoil?”
At Yusuf’s pointed remark, the delegates started in surprise, and Mzechabuk, the only one who maintained his composure, bowed his head carefully.
“Forgive our discourtesy. I am Mzechabuk Jaqeli, leader of the delegation.”
At the appearance of the man he had been waiting for, Yusuf slowly examined him.
His appearance was ordinary. One might say he had the air of a common middle-aged man.
Nor did he emit a suffocating sense of intimidation like Selim.
At first glance, he looked like an ordinary person, but.
‘He is like a snake.’
The way he pretended otherwise while rapidly scanning his surroundings with his eyes reminded Yusuf of a snake.
Yusuf smiled broadly.
“It is good to meet you. I am Şehzade Yusuf, master of Trabzon. You must have had a difficult journey coming all this way.”
“Not at all. Thank you for welcoming us despite our sudden visit.”
If being threateningly dragged in by sipahis counted as a welcome, then it was indeed a welcome.
“Sit at ease. I have too many questions to wait for you to rest from your journey.”
“Very well.”
One might have expected him to complain at Yusuf giving him no time to rest, but Mzechabuk accepted it calmly.
After all, from the sipahis until now, it had been one contest of nerves after another.
‘Let us see how long he can remain calm.’
Yusuf asked with a mischievous smile.
“So, what brings you here in such haste that you even formed an embassy?”
“I heard Your Highness had newly become the master of Trabzon, so how could it not be only natural to pay you a visit? The policies you enacted in Trabzon were also intriguing.”
So that was it.
A prince who had started swinging blades in his own fief not long after arriving—naturally, from the perspective of the Principality of Samtskhe, which bordered the Ottomans, that would be unsettling.
They had no way of knowing when that blade might be turned toward them.
‘I’m already in a position where I have to fight Ismail. I have no intention of going through the trouble of swallowing up land like that.’
It was not as if oil would come gushing out after a few digs with a shovel, and it was not worth the effort of taking.
Well, since they could not know that far, of course they would be worried.
In that case, was it not only human nature to make them even more uneasy?
“How amusing that Samtskhe takes such an interest in the affairs of our empire.”
“We are merely paying attention to our surroundings in order to survive.”
At that answer, Yusuf tugged up one corner of his mouth.
“So you are also quite interested in the movements of the Sufis who follow Shi’ism, then. The one leading them was Ismail, was he not?”
Mzechabuk’s eyes trembled.
If he was startled by this much, his heart might stop at what came next.
“What is there to be surprised about? With them moving so openly, it would be stranger not to know. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“That is true.”
“It would not be strange even if you were supporting Ismail in order to break away from the Aq Qoyunlu.”
Under those green eyes that seemed to see straight through his thoughts, Mzechabuk felt goosebumps rise all over his body.
The plan to aid Ismail was something discussed only by the highest ranks of each kingdom.
He could tell as much just from the bewildered looks on the faces of the envoys who had come with him.
As Mzechabuk, unable to guess just how much Yusuf knew, even began to feel fear, Yusuf smiled at him.
“Hahaha, no need to be so surprised. It was only a light joke.”
“Is that so? I was taken aback by such an unexpected topic.”
Had he simply been probing?
Just as Mzechabuk tried to reassure himself, Yusuf’s next words made him realize his relief had come too soon.
“Even if you truly did provide military support, I have no intention of interfering. That would be your judgment to make.”
‘He knows.’
He did not know where the information had leaked from, but it was certain that Yusuf knew.
Seeing his confusion, Yusuf laughed inwardly.
‘Normally, he probably isn’t someone who can be sounded out this easily.’
A long journey on foot, the pressure from the sipahis, and then, before he could even recover from his fatigue, a conversation chilling enough to make his flesh crawl.
It was something difficult to endure without considerable mental strength.
It seemed about time he could make him open up, so Yusuf made a proposal.
“Why not send the subordinates off to rest and have a conversation between just the two of us?”
After briefly weighing the gains and losses, Mzechabuk agreed, and only the two of them were left in the spacious room.
“What did you keep me here to discuss?”
“Nothing special. There is simply something I am curious about. As you know, the princes of our empire kill one another in order to become the master of the empire, do they not?”
It was such a famous custom that it was well known even in other countries.
“Because of that, I cannot understand a firstborn son easily inheriting the right to rule. When your position was taken from you simply because he was the eldest, how did that feel?”
At the question, which could have been insulting, Mzechabuk found himself asking something he normally would never have asked.
“What would Your Highness have done?”
Yusuf laughed.
Asking an Ottoman prince about brotherly love—how could that be anything but funny?
“Need I even say it? Naturally, if the opportunity arose, I would have killed him. I have given you my answer, so return yours to me.”
How deep is the brotherly love among you?
∗ ∗ ∗
When viewed day by day or week by week, it might seem as though time did not pass, yet when one looked back, one often realized that quite a lot of time had already gone by.
It had not only been more than a year since he had become Yusuf, but also more than a year since he had become the sanjakbey of Trabzon.
He had gradually grown accustomed to this life, which had many inconveniences, and whenever the seeds he had sown one by one began to show results, the sense of achievement was considerable.
For one thing, even the farmers were amazed by the effect of the clover.
“All we did was plant yonca, yet I never dreamed there would be such a difference. Doesn’t the land look better than the fields where we planted nothing at all?”
I have no idea.
What would someone who had never planted so much as a single blade of grass on Arbor Day know?
He merely nodded, thinking that if people who had spent their whole lives farming said so, then the clover must indeed be effective.
“Then we can attempt the four-field crop rotation according to the records. It must not fail.”
“Of course. I will stake my life on making certain it succeeds.”
One might ask why they were making vows to the point of risking their lives over farming, but these were people who had reason to do so.
They were the very ones who had ruined the farmland under Selim’s orders.
‘If it had been any prince other than me, these people would have been sold off as slaves and become Hassan Number Two.’
It was not self-praise. That was the law.
He was the one who received the annual income from the hass, but ownership of the land belonged, ultimately, to the state.
If they had caused damage to state land, it was only natural that they receive a punishment befitting that crime.
‘Of course, they would feel wronged. A prince ordered them to do it, but they would be the ones punished.’
Even knowing they would be punished, when a prince with as fierce an appearance as Selim gave an order, there was no one here capable of showing defiance. If there had been, he would already have been buried in the ground.
That was why he had forgiven the farmers, and the farmers, having received such grace, also did their utmost.
The land that had once been covered in clover was planted with turnips and wheat, and Yusuf spoke to the administrator overseeing the hass.
“You must also carefully determine how much more livestock can be raised with the turnips and yonca.”
“Understood.”
The greatest advantage of four-field crop rotation was that it allowed more livestock to be raised.
‘They absolutely refuse to use compost made from human waste even if they were beaten to death, so what can I do? We’ll have to raise more livestock, at least.’
If the amount of livestock increased, they could make more compost, and fallow fields themselves could be eliminated.
Considering the wars to come, food had to be abundant no matter what.
‘If the food is poor, even the Janissaries will rise in revolt.’
It was not for nothing that the Ottomans did their utmost when it came to food supply.
To feed twenty thousand men for three months, fifty thousand camels had to carry supplies, and there were even records of twenty thousand men eating more than two hundred thousand sheep over twenty-one months.
As an empire that could move great armies approaching one hundred thousand men, the cost of feeding them alone was enough to break one’s back.
In any case, the four-field crop rotation that would take responsibility for food was proceeding smoothly, but cement was not an easy challenge.
Obtaining the main materials, lime and clay, was not difficult.
In a region where both river water and groundwater were full of lime, to exaggerate only a little, limestone practically rolled around in the hills behind the village.
Even baking it was fine.
It required a temperature higher than lava, but in an age where they were already smelting and using iron, how could they fail to reach such a temperature?
Naturally, Hassan, who had made the first product, came running over with a delighted expression.
“Your Highness, we finally made it!”
Yusuf handled the cement Hassan had brought, examining it this way and that.
‘Compared to cement from the Roman era, it’s lacking, but this isn’t bad.’
Roman cement mixed with volcanic ash was harder than modern cement, so it was not really a fair comparison.
Even this much was enough to use with gratitude, and Hassan said in an excited voice,
“For it to harden like stone this quickly—the technology of Rome truly is amazing!”
“It is still too early to rejoice.”
He returned the cement to the bewildered Hassan.
“Find out how much gravel and sand must be mixed into this to make it the strongest.”
Cement itself crumbled easily, so only when it was mixed with gravel and sand to make concrete could it replace brick.
As Hassan nodded as though that much would be simple, Yusuf gave him a mischievous smile.
“After that, you’ll have to come up with a technique to mass-produce it.”
At those words, Hassan broke out in a cold sweat.
“…Your Highness? There is a baking process in the middle, so it is difficult to make in large quantities.”
At the very least, it would not work by baking each batch one by one in a smithy as they did now.
He knew it would be difficult, but there was no helping it.
“If we build structures with this, how much do you think we will need? And if those are not ordinary buildings but fortresses, the current method will never be able to handle it.”
What use was it to have a technique that could build a fortress in no time at all if there were no materials with which to build it?
Only then did Hassan clearly feel the necessity of cement, and his face turned pale.
Since Yusuf was always singing that war would break out, this was something he absolutely had to succeed at.
“Hassan, I do not care whether you drag in engineers or blacksmiths. Make it.”
In any case, a slave had no right to choose. If his master told him to do something, he did it.
Of course, Yusuf did not simply throw the task at him coldly. Since he also told him the methods that came to mind, progress was made little by little.
Cement had no shortage of twists and turns, but the cavalry training he was watching now was no simple matter either.
From among the cavalrymen holding up hollow lances more than five meters long, a booming voice rang out.
“Silence! Press knee to knee!”
At the command, the cavalry tightened their formation even further and began moving slowly. When the target drew near, another order fell.
“Lower lances!”
The cavalrymen thrust their lances forward and increased their speed, then pierced straight through the target.
The heap of grass that had blocked their path burst apart like dust; had it been people standing there, it would have become a spray of blood.
Despite that terrifying destructive power, the expressions of Yusuf and Arda, who watched it, were not very good.
“Their speed still dies in the middle.”
It was only an enemy made of a heap of grass, yet the speed of the cavalrymen approaching it had decreased visibly.
Though it might seem like a small difference in speed, the difference in breakthrough power was enormous.
“Even this much loss of speed was reduced thanks to using long lances.”
“It is more a problem with the horses than the men, so I have no intention of blaming them.”
The reason their speed died like that was because horses were far more cowardly than one might imagine.
To the point that when they encountered a creature or obstacle far smaller than themselves, they often could not trample it or jump over it and instead stopped in place.
‘Warhorses aren’t cowards to that degree, but if they are to do their part in real combat as well, their current level isn’t enough.’
Charging bodily into enemy soldiers holding weapons was not something possible with ordinary courage.
It was not only horses that had to overcome this fear; people were no different.
Whether it was a fight between cavalry, or between cavalry and spearmen, it was close to a game of chicken in which the side that lost its nerve was far more likely to be defeated. At least with a longer spear, one could strike the enemy before the horse grew even more frightened, minimizing the loss of destructive force.
“This is something Arda will simply have to train them well for. If things move quickly, they’ll have to take the field within a year.”
“A year, is it?”
It was by no means a generous amount of time, but Arda, too, could feel that they had to prepare for war.
For the wind blowing from the east was far from ordinary.
Arda nodded silently, then asked as a thought occurred to him.
“What do you intend to do about armor?”
“Armor, hmm… It is important.”
Armor not only protected the body, but also added weight, increasing destructive power.
Even the spears they were practicing with now were hollowed out, making them close to disposable items that would mostly splinter after a single charge.
In other words, one or two per cavalryman would not be nearly enough.
And if armor, which in modern terms cost as much as a car, was added on top of that, their finances would surely stagger.
Fortunately, there was not no way around it.
“If worst comes to worst, I’ll have to ask Father.”
By then, they would have fought Venice and wrung out a hefty amount of spoils, so surely he could spare some armor.
Having brazenly decided to mooch off the sultan, Yusuf returned to the castle with riding skills that had grown much more proficient, and there he found two letters addressed to him.
One was a letter from Mzechabuk of Samtskhe.
“So he took that seat in the end.”
It was a letter saying that his elder brother, who had been the master of the Principality of Samtskhe, had died, and that he had ascended to the position of regent.
The letter did not say that he had killed his brother himself.
‘He must have killed him in secret.’
They had parted with his eyes gleaming with desire, so he had surely killed his brother with his own hands.
With this, it had been proven that Ottoman-style brotherly affection was nothing special.
“I did egg him on, but does that mean it’s only natural to covet power enough to kill even your own family if the chance arises?”
There was a reason people said power was not something one shared even with one’s children.
Thinking so, Yusuf picked up the next letter, and his face brightened with delight.
It was a letter from Ayşe.
“You’re finally coming back.”
It contained news of Ayşe’s return after she had spent all that time turning Circassia upside down.
∗ ∗ ∗
Thudududu—
“A raid! It’s a raid!”
Because of the cloth wrapped around the horses’ hooves, the sentries discovered the Qizilbash too late and rang the alarm like madmen, but it was already far too late to respond.
“For Allah! For Ismail!”
They were fearless, like fanatics who believed in the savior and served Ismail, and they drove into the gaps in the wooden palisade, turning the enemy camp into a shambles.
Ismail’s tactics, repeated several times already, were persistent and vicious.
Facing a numerical disadvantage of twenty-seven thousand to seven thousand, Ismail avoided pitched battle completely and aimed only for hit-and-run attacks and night raids.
Unlike the Qizilbash, who were made up purely of cavalry, Faruk’s army had infantry mixed in, and in the field they had no choice but to be toyed with one-sidedly.
But Faruk was not so foolish as to keep falling for the same trick.
When the lights suddenly grew twice as bright and the rough thunder of hooves rang out, the Qizilbash cried out in alarm.
“It’s a trap! Retreat! Retreat!”
But that realization had already come too late, and while the Qizilbash were unable to properly build up speed, Faruk’s cavalry came crushing in.
“It is time to avenge ourselves! Kill them all!”
As if venting the resentment of having been harried so relentlessly, Faruk’s cavalry pursued the fleeing Qizilbash, and there were eyes watching the scene.
After confirming that the enemy cavalry had left their camp, Ismail spoke in a cold voice.
“Bring me Faruk.”
The cavalry had taken the bait and abandoned their positions, and the infantry, drunk on a false victory, could not stop the Qizilbash pouring in from the opposite side.
Faruk, who had been ostentatiously seated in the most splendid tent, was dragged in beaten half to death, and Ismail gave a cold sneer as he looked at him.
“Faruk, I have waited only for the day I would see you like this.”
“I-Ismail.”
Forced to his knees, Faruk looked up at Ismail with a face full of humiliation.
Faruk was a king who used the Persian title Shah, meaning king, and the Shirvanshah dynasty he ruled had a bitter, ill-fated history with Ismail.
The enemies of his house were the Shirvanshah dynasty, and Faruk before his eyes.
“Now that you have been reduced to this state, the two who are at Allah’s side must be smiling as well.”
At those words, Faruk threw him a sneer.
“Allah? As if! They must have been cast into the fires of hell and be suffering— Gaaah!”
Having driven a blade into the back of Faruk’s hand, Ismail lightly shook the blood from his own hand and said,
“Endure it even if you wish to die right now. I will take Baku and hang your head before your royal castle.”
“Ismail!”
Listening to that cry filled with hatred, Ismail turned away without the slightest lingering attachment.
Having won a great victory in a war that had seemed impossible, a powerful conviction surged within Ismail.
“Allah’s will is with me.”
It was the moment a monster stepped onto the front of history.