Luck, Again
Elbistan, where the once-abundant plains had burned and the wealth accumulated over long years had been plundered.
Marash, where Bozkurt Bey, ruler of Dulkadir, had fled.
The two regions were cities close enough to reach in two or three days on horseback.
That was based on the marching speed of cavalry; at full gallop, they could arrive in a single day.
When the distance between them was this close, they could in effect see each other’s movements as clearly as the lines on their palms.
As the hot, dry weather subsided and the cool air of autumn arrived, Ismail, who had been crouching in Elbistan, moved his army.
Leaving two thousand Qizilbash behind to defend Elbistan, Ismail plundered the surrounding area as he marched slowly, making it blatantly clear that he had no intention of overextending himself to occupy Marash.
Marash confirmed this at once and also set out, and as planned, the army that departed from Marash split into three and advanced.
“Mahmud.”
“Why do you call me?”
With the thirteen thousand troops led by Bozkurt at the center, their forces were divided: five thousand under Ahmed and Korkut on the right, and five thousand under Selim and Mahmud on the left.
Since Ahmed and Korkut were allied, Selim and Mahmud naturally had no choice but to move together.
“Are you not frustrated that we have already been wasting time for days?”
“Has it not been going according to plan so far?”
Since the enemy had split into three, Ismail, who commanded eighteen thousand Qizilbash, also divided his army.
He sent four thousand soldiers to each flank and took ten thousand troops to face Bozkurt directly.
What followed was a kind of battle of wits.
“How long do you think the current situation can continue?”
Between the princes, who could flee to a walled city if things went wrong, and the Qizilbash, for whom a siege would be burdensome, contests of calculation using troop movements occurred more than a dozen times a day.
It would not have been strange for a mistake to happen at any moment, and the fact that losses were accumulating in the small skirmishes caused by those maneuvers was also a problem.
“And are we not both in a position where we need to achieve military merit?”
At Selim’s words, Mahmud gave a sneer.
“Since when were we close enough to be spoken of as ‘we’?”
“True, we are not the sort to live smiling at each other. But would it not be better for you to compete with me than with Brother Ahmed?”
Though he wore an uneasy expression, Mahmud nodded.
Ahmed, who had drawn even greater attention after forming an alliance with Korkut, was the most threatening enemy.
Moreover, since his own territory, Saruhan, was closest to the capital, he calculated that temporarily joining hands with Selim would not be a bad idea.
“So what are you suggesting?”
Selim glanced at the sky where the sun was setting and said,
“We launch a night raid tonight.”
“You know that is absurd, do you not? What night raid can there be when the enemy is watching us with both eyes wide open?”
No matter that it was night, if they moved to prepare a night raid, the enemy would notice at once. It would be the same as inviting the battle they had been avoiding all this time.
Despite Mahmud’s objection, Selim answered with a calm face.
“Who said we were attacking them? The enemy I speak of is the one our two elder brothers are facing.”
Though their armies had moved in opposite directions, the distance was not that far.
If they rode diligently for two or three hours, they could arrive, making it a plan with enough feasibility.
“Very well. Then we shall have to widen the distance a little more before making camp.”
That way, even if the enemy realized the plan late and followed, it would be fine.
The princes had received guides from Bozkurt who knew the terrain here thoroughly, so they could move at night, but the enemy, without a single proper guide, would have difficulty pursuing them properly.
Once the plan was settled, the two princes deliberately widened the distance and set up camp.
As the sun went down, both sides made camp farther apart than usual, but the scouts serving as their eyes and ears kept watch on the enemy camp.
Preparing for a night raid was the most basic of tactics.
However, this time, such a response was meaningless.
Tap!
The soldiers patrolling inside the camp as usual lightly struck the tents as they passed, and as if waiting for it, rustling sounds came from within.
A moment later, the jingling sound of bells rang through the camp, and soldiers who had thrown aside the tents poured out in droves.
“R-report it at once! It’s a night raid!”
At the scout leader’s shout, the waiting scout hurriedly mounted his horse and set off at full speed toward the allied camp.
After seeing his subordinate depart and letting out a breath of relief, the leader felt a sense of wrongness as he watched the enemy soldiers mount their horses.
The direction their horses’ heads were facing was strange.
“Damn it! We were tricked!”
Realization always came late, and the enemy had already finished all preparations to advance.
As though there was no more time to waste, the five thousand cavalry began their advance with the thunder of countless hooves.
Marching at night when the ground could not even be properly seen was an extremely dangerous undertaking.
Because the guides led them by the shortest route rather than the safest one, soldiers began to fall behind.
There were soldiers who fell from their horses and were trampled to death under the hooves of their allies, and there was even a disaster in which a horse misstepped and collapsed, sending five or six cavalrymen who had been riding behind it crashing into the ground.
The soldiers, having lost comrades in vain, instead gritted their teeth and pressed forward, and at last they were able to spot a camp so brightly lit it could be seen from afar.
“Allah!”
“Chaaaarge!”
They could see enemy soldiers hurriedly emerging from their tents, alerted before anything else by the tremor of the earth that announced the attack, but it was already too late.
Mahmud, whose face had been filled with ecstasy as they drew closer to the enemy, soon opened his eyes wide.
Unlike his own soldiers, who were charging into the enemy camp, the soldiers following Selim had turned direction and were brushing past the side of the camp.
“Seliiim!!!”
He realized he had been deceived, but it was far too late to change direction now.
Mahmud’s soldiers, clenching their teeth, swept through the enemy troops floundering under an attack they had never expected.
However, with only two thousand cavalry, they lacked the breakthrough power to pierce through the enemy camp.
True to their reputation as elite Qizilbash, the enemy immediately attempted to respond, and Mahmud’s men found themselves caught in the middle of the enemy formation.
Watching the enemy camp where the sounds of clashing blades, screams, and shouts rang out, Selim sneered.
“That idiot.”
What kind of relationship did they have that he would trust him?
After passing the enemy camp and wheeling around, Selim pointed his drawn sword toward the enemy lines now plunged into terrible chaos.
“Sweep them all away.”
At Selim’s command, the soldiers soothed their panting horses and increased their speed.
Selim’s soldiers, who had struck the enemy’s rear, swept through without distinguishing enemy from ally and pierced the enemy camp.
Though the battle had begun as a night raid, the Qizilbash fought fiercely, living up to their infamy.
For three thousand Qizilbash were killed at the cost of an equal number of sipahi.
Two thousand of those were Mahmud’s betrayed soldiers, but Selim’s losses, having lost a third of his men, were not small either.
However, Selim did not care. He had achieved his objective.
“You have gone so pointlessly that not even a proper corpse remains, brother.”
Clutching the scraps of Mahmud’s clothing from the body that had been trampled so many times it was no longer recognizable, Selim wore a deep smile.
Selim had fought a battle that could safely be called a victory, but Ismail was no pushover either.
Bozkurt, having fallen for Ismail’s scheme, suffered a crushing defeat in which he lost nearly nine thousand soldiers.
As both sides suffered unexpected losses, the war entered a lull.
∗ ∗ ∗
For those in power in this era, sacrificing the lives of others for their own objectives was a matter of course.
After all, even war itself was something in which the unwilling masses were dragged in for the objectives of a select few in power.
Yusuf, too, had no intention of fearing sacrifice if it was for the sake of his goal.
‘Coldly speaking, a ruler who fears sacrifice cannot survive.’
Take the Ottomans right now. If a prince declared that he would not kill his brothers, would they applaud him?
On the contrary, the one who made such a weak statement would be far more likely to die without a trace.
However, he did not enjoy unnecessary sacrifices unrelated to his objective.
‘In a way, it may be hypocrisy.’
On the way here, they had devastated many villages and descended while committing plunder.
Since this was an operation that required mobility, supplies had to be procured locally, and the purpose of this operation was to strike a blow against the Safavids.
He was not so thick-skinned as to claim he had shown mercy to people grieving over the loss of their homes simply because he had not slaughtered them.
It was merely self-satisfaction, and the bare minimum of humanity he still held on to.
“Arda, from here we split into two and move separately.”
They had already entered the Diyarbakir sphere of control, and from now on, it would be a true contest of speed.
They had to inflict as much damage as possible and withdraw.
“Will you be all right even if I do not accompany you?”
“I will be fine. Even without you, there are reliable men with me.”
He trusted Arda, the subashi of Trabzon, the most, but that did not mean the other subashis were lacking.
There were enough men to fill Arda’s absence.
“Do not worry about me. If enemy movements are detected as planned, do not linger and return to Erzincan.”
Diyarbakir lay deep within enemy territory. If they were needlessly held up by enemy forces, it could become extremely dangerous.
‘Even if we stay long, two days at most.’
Because they had passed through so flamboyantly, it was only a matter of time before news of them reached the nearby cities of Bingol and Elazig.
If armies set out from those two places, their retreat route could be blocked.
Putting aside his concern for Yusuf, Arda bowed respectfully.
“Return safely. I will see you in Erzincan.”
“Yes. Make sure you come back with your pockets full.”
Yusuf answered playfully, then set off toward western Diyarbakir with two thousand sipahi.
∗ ∗ ∗
Raiding the villages near Diyarbakir, which had not properly received news, was far too easy.
The people, who had never dreamed that the enemy would have invaded this deeply, mistook the two thousand cavalry led by Yusuf for Qizilbash rather than sipahi.
After plundering for two days without any particular effort, Yusuf intended to return.
He had already had more than enough amusement, and it was not an operation important enough to warrant taking such risks.
That was what would have happened, had a strange group not caught Yusuf’s eye as he was about to turn back.
“Suspicious.”
There were over a hundred people moving along with a large carriage alone.
When two thousand cavalry suddenly appeared before them, the other party seemed flustered and stopped moving. Yusuf shouted.
“Kill everyone who resists.”
“Ha!”
The guards’ skills were outstanding, as if they were not protecting anyone ordinary, but their numbers were far too few to stop nearly two thousand sipahi.
As Yusuf watched the enemy guards being cut down, he spotted a woman leaving the carriage and drew the gun fixed to his horse.
Bang!
“Kyaaah!”
The woman and her maids, hearing a gunshot like thunder for the first time, collapsed to the ground.
The woman, who had lost even the smallest chance to flee, looked around at the sea of blood around her with fierce eyes. Yusuf dismounted in front of her.
“I do not know who you are, but Allah will not forgive you!”
“A curse I’ve already heard to the point of boredom.”
Yusuf replied indifferently, firmly seized the woman’s raised hand, and pulled down the hijab that covered her face.
When the fierce, upturned face of a cat-like beauty was revealed, one of the trembling maids cried out as if screaming.
“K-Khanom!”
“Shut your mouth!”
The woman called Khanom shouted with an enraged expression, but it was already too late.
Khanom was a title attached to women of high rank. For example, royalty.
Yusuf lifted the woman’s chin with his hand and asked.
“What is your name?”
“…The Shah will not forgive you.”
Seeing the woman threaten him by invoking Ismail, a name flashed through Yusuf’s mind.
“Don’t tell me you’re Tajlu Khanom.”
Seeing the woman startle violently at the question, Yusuf felt a headache coming on.
Tajlu Khanom. She was the woman Ismail loved most within his harem.
‘Running into her like this is heavenly luck, but…’
He was suddenly filled with worry over whether it would be all right to abduct her.
While living as Yusuf, he had never once regretted not allocating talent to intelligence, and the reason was the knowledge lodged in his head.
Even information he had only glanced at, and the stories of the Ottomans he had indirectly experienced hundreds of times through games, remained clear in his memory.
However, that did not mean he knew everything.
‘If Tajlu Khanom had simply been Ismail’s favorite concubine, I wouldn’t have known her.’
She was not Ottoman, so how could he know the members of the Safavid harem?
The reason Yusuf knew of her was because she was the mother of Tahmasp I, who became Shah after Ismail.
Yusuf, who had never imagined he would meet such a woman here, slowly took in the situation around him.
The enemy’s resistance had been so fierce that even the guards who had barely survived were on the verge of going to Allah’s embrace.
There were dozens of gruesome corpses, and the ground, dyed red with blood, had turned muddy.
Seeing Tajlu glaring at him with sharp eyes even in such a situation, Yusuf clicked his tongue inwardly.
‘She has no idea what might happen to her, and she still acts like that. Her temperament is no ordinary thing.’
Then again, even setting aside her status as Ismail’s consort, her birth was not to be taken lightly.
Her grandfather had been a ruler of the Aq Qoyunlu dynasty.
Though it was somewhat ironic that this grandfather was Yaqub, the man who killed Ismail’s father, Haydar.
“Who are you?”
Tajlu asked, knocking away the hand lifting her chin, and Yusuf answered her.
“I am called Shehzade Yusuf.”
“…The Ottoman Shaytan!”
“You call me by quite the grand nickname. Should I say thank you?”
Yusuf smiled slyly.
If she was among the upper ranks who knew how the Qizilbash had been defeated, it was natural for her to use such an expression.
To them, it must have looked as if he had used sorcery.
“What do you intend to do with me?”
“Hm, well.”
Yusuf pondered.
It was not terribly strange for Tajlu to be here.
Until half a century ago, the capital of the Aq Qoyunlu dynasty had been Diyarbakir, and her clan still held enormous power in the Diyarbakir and Armenian regions.
However, running into her like this could only be called the work of luck.
‘Even if my luck was good, this is too dangerous to bite down on right away. Ismail is sure to go mad.’
They had already become enemies from the moment he won that great victory, and it was true that they would have to fight someday, but taking a woman was a different matter.
After thinking for a moment, Yusuf made his decision.
“Bind her. We’ll take her with us.”
“Yes!”
There was more than enough value in taking the risk.
At Yusuf’s order, the sipahi drew out ropes and approached, and a maid behind Tajlu sprang forward.
“How dare you lay your hands on—guh!”
A sipahi who received Yusuf’s glance shot an arrow, and the maid, with the arrow lodged in her throat, collapsed on the spot.
As she was bound with ropes amid a chilling silence, Tajlu asked in an enraged voice.
“What do you intend to do after taking me captive?”
“At the very least, I am not taking you away to make you my woman, as Ismail did, so take the force out of your eyes.”
In truth, Tajlu had not been married to Ismail from the beginning.
During Ismail’s wars of conquest, he had killed the ruler of a certain region, brought back the man’s wife—her—and put her into his harem.
It was not an age where taking another man’s woman as spoils was considered strange, but Yusuf had no intention of putting her in his own harem.
‘If there were profit in it, maybe, but taking Tajlu for myself is a complete minus.’
There was no need to face a monster driven mad over a single woman.
He would have to fight his elder brothers in the future, and he did not want an enraged Ismail at his back.
The best choice was to take her along carefully, secure a suitable profit, and return her unharmed.
“What should we do with the rest?”
Even excluding those who had already died, there remained the maids who had attended Tajlu and the servants who had done odd jobs.
Yusuf swept his gaze over them and gave a cold order.
“Kill them all, except for two maids to assist Tajlu.”
They could not hide Tajlu’s abduction forever, but to buy even a little time, it was necessary to silence them.
Across all times and places, the best way to silence mouths was to kill and erase the witnesses.
At Yusuf’s order, the sipahi swung their swords without hesitation, and only two lucky maids survived.
“Put the three of them in the carriage and keep strict watch. They are valuable spoils, so I will not forgive anyone who tries anything foolish.”
“Leave it to us without worry.”
Yusuf nodded at the words of the subashi leading the sipahi and mounted his horse.
“Time will be tight.”
Since they had gained the added burden of a carriage, their travel speed would slow, and if things went wrong, their trail could be caught.
But she was too valuable to abandon because of that danger.
“Spoils that require quite a lot of handling in more ways than one.”
Taking her to Trabzon would be difficult, but negotiating with the Safavids over Tajlu also came with several difficult conditions.
First, it was basic that she had to be returned healthy, and the Sultan must not learn that Tajlu had been abducted.
‘Since Ismail is in the middle of devastating Dulkadir, she might be taken as bargaining material or executed as a warning.’
If that happened, there was a high chance he would only incur Ismail’s grudge without receiving any proper compensation.
On top of that, he could not keep her for too long.
The longer one’s woman stayed in another man’s house, the more one would inevitably suspect that something improper had been done to her.
If that suspicion grew and affection disappeared, the negotiations would collapse, and he would gain both an enemy and a woman at the same time.
‘Instead, the profit I can gain in exchange for taking such risks is also great.’
Even if he received only money, he would be able to secure ample military funds.
“Only Allah will know whether this affair becomes fortune or misfortune.”
After briefly evaluating the situation, Yusuf gripped his reins and shouted.
“We return to Erzincan!”
∗ ∗ ∗
“Those damned Ottoman mongrels! How dare they come here!”
Nur Ali, who governed Diyarbakir, slammed his desk.
When he first heard the report, he thought it was rebels or bandits. It was far too abrupt an attack to think it had been the Ottomans.
However, when news followed that Erzincan had fallen, he could clearly identify the enemy.
‘For this to happen when I just so happen to be holding this place.’
Diyarbakir was a great city that had served as the capital for a long time, and originally, it should have been the seat of Mohammad, the one most favored by the Shah.
However, after the great defeat at Nevazar, Ismail had developed the habit of keeping his most trusted subordinate by his side, and so Nur Ali had taken this place.
It was a kind of butterfly effect.
“Where is the enemy now?!”
“Considering their confirmed movements, they seem to already be in the middle of withdrawing.”
Even if he sent pursuers now, the possibility of catching them was slim.
His head ached at the thought of restoring the damaged villages and the reprimand he would later receive.
“First, assemble a pursuit force and send it out!”
Even if it ended in wasted effort, he had to attempt a pursuit to receive less blame.
He had to send out a pursuit force, and he also had to support those who had lost their homes and food to the plundering.
As Nur Ali swiftly prepared what had to be done immediately, the door to his office burst open, and a soldier who rushed in hastily paid his respects and shouted.
“Urgent report! Tajlu Khanom, who was on her way to Diyarbakir, is said to have been abducted by the Ottoman army!”
For a moment, Nur Ali felt his mind go blank.
This was such a grave matter that the plundering of the surrounding area seemed like a minor incident by comparison. Nur Ali, who briefly wished it were a dream, sprang up from his seat.
“We must catch them no matter what! Move at once!”
Troops poured out of Diyarbakir.
∗ ∗ ∗
Even driving the carriage so fast that dying groans could be heard from inside, there was no helping the reduction in their marching speed.
According to the plan, they should have reached Erzincan long ago, yet they still had not arrived.
He rode on with an anxious heart, but fortunately, there was not much distance left to their destination.
“We need only ride through today’s daylight.”
Though relieved by the subashi’s words, Yusuf did not let go of the tension until the very end.
Still, for soldiers exhausted by the harsh schedule, it was consolation enough.
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
The soldiers, who had relaxed slightly and were exchanging light jokes, hardened their expressions upon hearing the sound of horse hooves pounding the ground.
For their ears had perceived the enemy’s approach before their eyes.
“Are we fleeing?”
“Even if we run, we will only be caught quickly. There is no need to waste stamina.”
At Yusuf’s command, the sipahis hastily turned their horses around, and soon the enemy revealed themselves, kicking up clouds of dust.
‘Their numbers are roughly four thousand, give or take.’
The pursuing enemies would have greater stamina depletion from rushing here, but with a twofold difference in troop numbers, it could not become a decisive factor.
When they brought the carriage carrying Tazlu to the fore, the charging enemies slowed their pace, and soon the two sides entered a standoff at a safe distance.
Shortly after, a single cavalryman from the opposing side approached without a hint of fear.
Yusuf greeted the emissary with the rigidly set face and asked leisurely.
“So, what business brings you here in such a hurry? If there is no particular reason, I would like to take my leave.”
“Hmph, speak no nonsense! Is she safe? If even the smallest scratch has been dealt to her body, I shall throw you lot to the dogs as feed.”
At the emissary’s violent words, the sipahis drew their swords with enraged faces, yet even with blades pointed at him, the emissary glared at Yusuf without the slightest tremor.
Yusuf gestured for them to sheathe their swords and spoke.
“Hmm, she is in good health for now. Bring her out.”
At Yusuf’s command, a soldier opened the carriage door, and Tazlu, her appearance wretched, staggered out.
Seeing this, the emissary glared with a face full of fury, and Yusuf shrugged.
“It seems she suffered somewhat from the rough journey. You need not worry; no one has laid a hand on her.”
“…Release her this instant. Do so, and I shall at least spare your lives.”
“Hmm, a most generous condition indeed.”
The soldier who received the gesture dragged Tazlu over, and Yusuf, standing her at his side, spoke with a sneer.
“Then allow me to make a fine proposal as well.”
Yusuf drew a pre-loaded gun and pulled the trigger toward the sky.
Boom!
A thunderous roar erupted, and Yusuf leveled the barrel, wreathed in billowing smoke, at Tazlu.
Even if he knew little of firearms, seeing something launched alongside flame served as an excellent threat to the emissary.
“Withdraw immediately, and I shall spare this wench’s life. How about it? Is it not a fine proposal?”
The emissary ground his teeth at the sight of Yusuf tilting the gun barrel.
“You shall surely regret this.”
“That remains to be seen. Do not trouble yourself overmuch. So long as a proper ransom is paid, I shall return her unharmed.”
“You swine.”
The emissary spat out his curse and returned straight to the enemy lines, and Yusuf handed Tazlu—who was spewing curses of her own—over to a soldier.
Subaşı, glancing at Tazlu as she returned to the carriage, asked.
“How do you think they will respond?”
“It is obvious. With a hostage in hand, they will stall for time. We are still in enemy territory, and there are other forces pursuing us besides them.”
Having committed many crimes, it could not be helped.
At Yusuf’s words, Subaşı bowed his head and said.
“I shall lead five hundred and buy time. Please flee.”
“Nonsense. Whatever that woman’s status, I have no intention of sacrificing you.”
At these words, the soldiers wore moved expressions, but this is what Yusuf truly thought.
Losing five hundred men over spoils of war that were difficult to dispose of in the first place simply did not pay.
Moreover, he had already called for reinforcements to resolve the current situation.
“They’re here.”
As sipahis numbering over a thousand appeared from behind with the sound of horse hooves, Yusuf broke into a grin.
His prediction that Arda would come out to meet him due to the delayed return had been correct.
“Who would have thought the loud gunshot would help? It’s one of those things you live to see.”
Regardless, now that their forces were roughly even, there would be no stopping them.
“When do you suppose word will reach Ismail?”
He was worried Ismail might truly collapse from a stroke. He still had so much work left to do for him.
Yusuf mounted his horse with a mischievous smirk.
∗ ∗ ∗
Ayşe quietly turned the page.
She had learned much from Fatima, Yusuf’s mother, and from Nene, who had served her since long ago.
She had studied diverse fields ranging from court etiquette and literature to dance and music, but they inevitably paled in comparison to the harem, which offered women the finest education.
To fill this deficiency, she had to strive on her own.
‘For this is no longer a matter for me alone.’
Ayşe stroked the head of the sleeping Mehmet beside her and gazed at him with heartaching eyes.
Although a woman named Hatis had appeared by Yusuf’s side, and more competitors would arise in the future, she did not regret becoming Yusuf’s woman.
For she had resolved herself to everything the moment she made her decision.
But when she thought of the thorned path Mehmet would have to walk, her heart ached.
“…Mother?”
Perhaps because he felt her touch? Mehmet, awakened from sleep, blinked his small eyes.
Even at age four, when children become notoriously willful enough to be called the “terrible fours,” Mehmet displayed his uniquely calm demeanor.
“Are you awake?”
Mehmet nodded and squirmed up, while Ayşe set down her book.
Mehmet, letting out a small yawn, asked Ayşe.
“When will Father arrive?”
As the bearer of the prince’s heir, Ayşe was in a position to know the progress of the ongoing war.
She knew that Yusuf, who had been raiding Diyarbakır, had abducted Ismail’s woman, and that seven thousand enemy troops had converged on Erzincan.
Whether due to the hostage or because they lacked overwhelming force, there had been no direct clashes, but Yusuf was tied down in Erzincan.
‘But that too will not last long.’
The weather had already turned to winter, and enemies gathered without proper preparations could not endure for long.
If the blockade was lifted, the likelihood of Yusuf returning to Trabzon was high.
“It will not take very long. Why, do you miss him?”
“Yes, I miss him.”
Honestly, Mehmet’s attachment to Yusuf was unexpected.
Yusuf was not the type to be affectionate toward Mehmet. Undoubtedly he had affection, but there was a sense of distance.
For a child, even with a parent, this must be difficult, yet Mehmet quite liked Yusuf.
‘Come to think of it, children have often liked the Prince.’
No, perhaps it was not a story limited to children.
Seeing how Yusuf’s subordinates could throw their lives away lightly for him, he seemed to possess a power that drew people in.
“He will likely return before Hatis gives birth.”
At these words, Mehmet furrowed his eyes slightly, and Ayşe teased his soft cheek as she asked.
“Do you dislike having a younger sibling?”
“I was told that if a younger sibling is born, I would have to fight.”
Wondering what loose-lipped fool had said such a thing to a child, Ayşe ground her teeth inwardly.
Rendered speechless, Ayşe could only hold Mehmet as he burrowed into her arms.
“Do not worry. I will not lose.”
She stroked the back of the child who was already thinking of struggle at such a tender age.
‘Mehmet, I would stake my very life for you.’
Ayşe vowed.
∗ ∗ ∗
The raiding around Diyarbakır was motivated more by establishing military merit than by financial gain.
Having Dulkadir, which could be called the front yard, pillaged was a matter of wounded pride for the Ottomans.
As a retaliatory measure for this, they had pillaged the Safavid front yard, so they ought to have been pleased.
However, plans went awry when a bigger catch than expected was captured.
‘The raiding party operations must be halted.’
The Safavids were furious over Tazlu’s kidnapping, so small-scale troop movements could be dangerous.
Thus, the value of Erzincan, which had been considered a base for raiding, had also dropped.
‘If the troops currently here withdraw, it will be difficult to defend properly as well.’
Compared to Bayburt or Erzurum, whose walls had been repaired with cement, the defensive facilities were inadequate.
Nor was it land worth the trouble of reinforcing.
With winter setting in, the enemies who had been encamped outside retreated, and now it was time to return to Trabzon.
Having ordered them to pack the spoils and prepare for retreat, Yusuf went to where the greatest prize was kept.
“What brings you here again!”
Yusuf stroked his chin as he looked at Tazlu, who greeted him with an angry voice.
“I heard you were starving, so I came to check, yet you seem full of vigor. Let me tell you one thing: if you intend to starve yourself to death, you had best give up. I will not let you die that way.”
She needed to remain intact until he received compensation from Ismail and sent her back.
After that, it was none of his concern.
‘She might even give birth to Tahmasp, just as in history.’
Since she had already been subjected to Yusuf’s influence, even if she bore a son, there was no possibility of him being born genetically identical.
The probability of conception by the same sperm from coupling on the same day was nonexistent, after all.
Anyway, who would succeed Ismail as the next Shah was not a major concern for Yusuf.
‘If Ismail dies young as in history, it would already be too late even if she gives birth now.’
After the crushing defeat at Chaldiran, Ismail had lived steeped in drink until dying young at the age of thirty-six, seventeen years from now.
Even if she bore a son right now, the child would ascend the throne at a young age and be swayed by his subordinates, just as in the original history.
“You satanic wretch. Just when do you intend to release me?”
“Soon Ismail too will hear news of your abduction; what happens after that is up to him.”
Yusuf raised one corner of his mouth and continued.
“If he truly loves you, he will reclaim you even at tremendous cost.”
“…And if the Shah abandons me?”
No one knew how Ismail would respond.
Even if not out of love, he might try to reclaim her for the sake of her influence.
Or he might discard Tazlu, considering his pride and the nation’s finances.
“Hmm, it is indeed a situation I would rather not think about.”
Taking a ransom and ending it cleanly would be ideal, but if Ismail refused…
Yusuf grasped the chin of Tazlu, whose pupils trembled at the thought of being abandoned, and lifted it to meet her eyes.
“I’ll have to put her in my harem. That will be the most useful purpose she can serve.”
Her bloodline had more than enough political utility.
He could draw in those who followed her clan, and later, when he became sultan and conquered Safavid lands, she might prove useful.
Simply taking the concubine of his enemy Ismail would be an achievement in itself.
“Who says you can do that!”
“Once you were captured, would it not be up to me? If you dislike that, then pray Ismail does not abandon you.”
If Ismail cast Tajlu aside, he would surely block the merchants who came to Trabzon through Safavid territory.
It would not be a crippling blow, but with so many expenses ahead, it was hardly welcome.
Yusuf released Tajlu and stepped out of the room, then spoke to Arda, who approached quietly.
“Get rid of the two maidservants who came with Tajlu. They seem to be one reason she still has so much spirit.”
“How shall I deal with them?”
“There is no need to kill them needlessly. Hand them over to the sipahis who need wives.”
The two maidservants had no choice in the matter, but it would be better than simply letting them go.
If they returned, they would be brutally killed for failing to properly protect Tajlu.
“In any case, this is quite the harvest.”
Since mobility had been important for the raid, they had given up on bulky goods, but the valuables they had plundered alone had yielded a handsome profit.
And the sipahis, having secured a solid share for themselves, would invest part of their gains into their arms, which was another favorable development.
“It should be about time for the news to reach Ismail.”
The soldiers who had been lingering around Erzincan for a while had withdrawn, so the news would have reached Ismail in Dulkadir and then some.
“I look forward to seeing what kind of reply comes back.”
∗ ∗ ∗
Ismail wore an irritated expression as he thought over the results of the last battle.
In that battle, as many as four thousand Qizilbash had died.
Of course, the enemy’s losses were three times greater, so it could be called a great victory, but the loss of the Qizilbash, his main force, was a painful blow.
“They said the enemy commander was Prince Selim, did they not?”
“That is correct.”
“He is a dangerous man.”
Ismail had never met him in person, but it was clear just from the way he had boldly thrown his brother’s army out as bait and achieved two objectives at once.
“No matter how much I help him, I do wonder whether Shehinshah can become the master of the Ottomans.”
Compared to Ahmed or Yusuf, Selim had not been an enemy he had greatly guarded against.
But now that he had faced him, he could clearly feel that the man was no ordinary opponent.
“Selim may be as dangerous as Yusuf.”
It was a brief assessment, but it was also the highest praise Ismail could give. After all, Yusuf was the only enemy who had ever inflicted a crushing defeat on him.
The matter of the princes was important, but there was an even greater problem.
“In the end, the Ottomans have issued a summons. How many do you think will gather?”
“At least over one hundred thousand.”
At the enormous number, Ismail gave a faint laugh.
“I had better prepare a letter of apology in advance.”
The final victor would be him anyway, so lowering his head for a short while now for the sake of the future was not difficult.
Though he did not know whether they would let it pass quietly when even a prince had been killed.
“Send the letter around the time the enemy army has fully gathered.”
“Understood.”
Even for the Ottomans, once they mustered a large army, it would be difficult to muster one again in a short period.
If they accepted his apology and sent their forces back, he could worry less about the Ottomans for a while.
As Ismail was drawing up plans for what came next with his closest aide, Mohammad, the sound of knocking reached his ears.
—O Shah, Nur Ali Khalifa has come from Diyarbakir.
“Nur Ali?”
Considering the distance alone, it was entirely possible for him to come, but for the man who governed Diyarbakir to come in person was no ordinary matter.
Feeling a sense of foreboding, Ismail’s expression hardened, and he shouted.
“Let him in!”
Once permission was given, the door opened, and Nur Ali prostrated himself before Ismail.
“O Shah. Please kill me.”
Ismail snatched the paper Nur Ali held out as he begged for death, and as he read what was written on it, he radiated killing intent.
“Yusuf, that bastard, took Tajlu? Is what I am seeing true?”
“…It is.”
Was it because he was too furious? Ismail’s mind instead turned cold, and he crumpled the paper as he asked.
“Why did she come to Diyarbakir?”
“I heard it was to be the first to welcome you upon your return, Shah.”
“And in the end, she was captured by that bastard Yusuf, who came all the way to Diyarbakir to plunder?”
“That is correct.”
Looking at Nur Ali, whose head was bowed low, Ismail burst into wild laughter.
If Allah had not intervened, how could such a coincidence have occurred?
After laughing like a madman for some time, Ismail drew the sword at his side and swung it just like that.
Thud.
One of Nur Ali’s ears fell to the floor, and Ismail spoke to Nur Ali, who did not move a muscle even as blood dripped steadily from him.
“Nur Ali.”
“Command me, O Shah.”
“Do not think I have forgiven you with this.”
“Of course not. My worthless life has always belonged to the Shah.”
Looking at the obedient Nur Ali, Ismail let out a long breath and said.
“Your life is a matter for later. What you must do is one of two things. Either bring Tajlu back to me unharmed.”
Ismail drove his sword into Nur Ali’s fallen ear.
“Or bring that bastard’s head before me.”
“All shall be done according to the Shah’s will.”
∗ ∗ ∗
After the year turned and the heavily pregnant Hatice began to complain of pains, Ismail’s envoy set foot in Bayburt.