Intersecting Designs
With the Age of Discovery came the true beginning of world history, as civilizations that had either been unaware of one another’s existence or had maintained only limited trade became connected.
It was an era when great sailing ships roamed the open seas, and one presence that could not be left out of that age was the pirate.
Among them in particular, privateers—pirate ships sanctioned by the state—were not to be taken lightly in terms of influence.
After all, Francis Drake, who overcame Spain’s Invincible Armada despite being outnumbered and made England a rising sun, had served as a privateer captain.
‘The two Barbarossas before me are similar to Drake.’
They were men who had distinguished themselves not only as pirates, but also as naval admirals.
When he brought up plunder, Yusuf smiled at the two brothers, who had yet to answer.
“Why, is it not only natural? I called pirates here, so of course we would discuss plunder.”
“That is true, but…”
Uruj drew a short breath, steeled himself, and spoke firmly.
“Though my homeland is the Empire, I am not one who obeys the Empire’s commands.”
“Is it because of the Hafsid dynasty?”
“It is.”
The Hafsid dynasty ruled over parts of North Africa and was also a leading patron of the Barbary pirates.
Uruj, a Barbary pirate himself, had a contract to give one-third of his spoils to the Hafsid sultan in exchange for the strategic use of Tunis.
Yusuf waved a hand.
“Do you think I called you here without knowing even that?”
The Ottomans would eventually become the foremost patron of the Barbary pirates after conquering all the Islamic powers around the Mediterranean, but for now they were merely one patron among many.
Rather, with the fall of Eastern Rome and the decline of trade in the eastern Mediterranean, pirate activity had shifted toward Spain and Africa, while Ottoman influence had diminished.
“It does not matter. Do not equate my Ottoman Empire with the incompetent Hafsid dynasty, which depends on your income.”
“Then what would you have of us?”
“Strategic advantage, and the abduction of useful talent. That alone will suffice.”
The Hafsid dynasty? In any case, it was a place that would stand by while the Mamluks were conquered, only to be swallowed by the Ottomans afterward.
The wealth the pirates had piled up could be stripped from them then. For now, it was enough simply to have the Barbary pirates run wild.
“Uruj, you grew under the patronage of my elder brother, Korkut. Did you not?”
“…I did.”
When Korkut became sanjak-bey of the inland region of Çorum, Uruj, fearing that his friendship with him might bring trouble down upon him, fled to North Africa.
When Yusuf brought up his connection to his already-dead brother, Uruj looked at him with wary eyes.
With a single word from the Padishah, a mere pirate captain could be sent into Allah’s embrace at any time.
Yet what he heard next made Uruj’s worries seem needless.
“Though he met a vain end, I trust Brother Korkut’s eye for people. He must have supported you so generously because your abilities were outstanding.”
“I received favor far beyond my worth.”
“There is no need to think of it so gravely. Simply consider that your bond with my brother has continued. Think of it as you did in those days, when you were with him.”
Yusuf spoke in a gentle tone, hardly like the man who had schemed to have Korkut killed, and Uruj, unaware of that fact, bowed his head with a moved expression.
“I shall act according to the Padishah’s will.”
“A wise decision. Uruj, I will lend you ships and harbors. Go and run wild as you see fit.”
“Thank you, Padishah.”
It did not matter what places the Barbary pirates chose as targets for plunder.
They could attack the lands of Italy, where the Papal States lay, or they could primarily engage Spain, which would remain a threatening enemy until the sixteenth century.
‘Or they could attack Venice, with whom we have signed a peace treaty.’
Was that not the true reason for using outside contractors—being able to feign ignorance at any time?
The goal was to keep the West from turning its eyes this way until the Safavids and Mamluks were conquered.
That alone would be enough for them to earn their keep.
“And Kemal Reis.”
“Yes, Padishah.”
“You need not feel too slighted.”
Budgets and resources were not infinite.
Supporting pirates meant reducing the support that would go to the navy.
Realizing that this thought had shown on his face, Kemal hurriedly dropped to one knee.
“Forgive me, Padishah!”
“No, it is fine. As one who leads the military, it is only a natural reaction. I have no intention of blaming you.”
“Thank you for your mercy.”
“Go seek out Suleiman Pasha and a man named Tahir. They will more than make up for your disappointment.”
Small cannons were more useful at sea than on land, and Kemal Reis would surely recognize their value.
Filled with anticipation at Yusuf’s words, Kemal bowed deeply.
Leaving the three behind, Yusuf returned to his room and looked at the map affixed to the wall.
“Two Barbarossas, hm.”
Through his intervention, the fate of Baba Uruj had been twisted.
He was a man who had taken Algiers, risen as far as the seat of sultan, and then, fearing a Spanish invasion, become Selim’s vassal and taken the post of governor of Algiers.
Though he would die in battle against a massive Spanish army not long after becoming governor, he was the man who laid the foundation for his younger brother Hizir to spread his infamy.
‘Without him, there would have been no Hayreddin, commander-in-chief of the Ottoman navy.’
Considering his fame in the original history, it was true that his younger brother Hizir drew more attention, but Uruj was also a capable talent.
At the very least, he had to be regarded as someone on the level of an Ottoman admiral, and Yusuf was curious to see what results he would produce when given active support.
“Then shall we see what you can do?”
The Barbary pirates, who had existed since the seventh century, were now entering the period when they would absorb the Jews and Muslims expelled from Spain and gradually become infamous.
It was fair to look forward to the activities of Barbary, which would one day turn all of North Africa into a single pirate state.
Of course, it might prove far too harsh for those on the receiving end.
“That is none of my concern.”
Yusuf smiled playfully.
It was a decision that would make the Mediterranean tremble at Barbary’s infamy.
∗ ∗ ∗
When Hürrem first set foot in the harem, her eyes went wide.
Though Hürrem had been born the daughter of an Orthodox priest and had received considerable education, she had not lived a life of luxury.
The women in Turkish-style dresses with long, trailing sleeves were so beautiful that even another woman could not take her eyes off them, and their coquettish laughter rang in her ears.
The scent of expensive perfume and incense brushed past her nose, and the jewels worn by the women looked as though even taking only a portion of them would be enough to live without worry.
It was her first glimpse of the harem, and Hürrem, who had worn a slightly dazed expression, soon had to see the other side hidden behind that splendor.
“These are the women newly brought into the harem.”
The female attendants who had led the women into the harem with an overbearing manner paid their respects, and Fatima looked the women over as if inspecting them.
Turning her head as though uninterested, Fatima spoke.
“Eine Kalfa.”
“Yes, Valide Hatun.”
“Assign one kalfa to each of them, and first teach them the language. I leave their education entirely to you.”
“Understood.”
With Fatima’s order, harsh instruction began.
The women, who could not even speak Ottoman Turkish properly, let alone observe etiquette, had to learn the language while being beaten and driven by sheer spite.
Under hands that struck with exquisite precision, enough not to leave scars, more and more of them began to stammer out the language, and from then on they had to learn court etiquette.
Thanks to an education engraved into their very bodies, they could hardly tell how the days passed, and during that time a strange rumor began to circulate among the women.
“They say the reason we’re being trained so hard is because of some brat who acted insolently toward the Padishah.”
“I heard the kalfas gnashed their teeth when they heard that rumor.”
Once that rumor spread, even the women who could be said to be in the same situation turned their eyes toward Hürrem.
Already worn down in body and mind by the harsh education, Hürrem found herself tormented and despised even by the other women of the harem, and what remained in her was truly nothing but venom.
Hürrem, bristling with sharp venom like a hedgehog, took revenge on the women as if venting all the feelings she had endured.
It did not take long for the daily commotions to lead to Hürrem being dragged before Fatima.
“Valide Hatun, this child is Alexandra, the one who has been repeatedly causing trouble in the harem.”
As green eyes like the Padishah’s swept over her, Hürrem, dragged all the way here, froze from head to toe.
After examining Hürrem, Fatima asked the kalfas in charge of her education.
“So what do you wish to do with her?”
“Since she has caused disturbances in the harem, I believe she should be expelled. I fear she may bring harm to the Padishah.”
The harem was a place where women were trained to be obedient to the sultan, and a rebellious woman was not the ideal pursued there.
At the kalfa’s reasonable argument, Fatima looked down at Hürrem and said,
“Alexandra, do you know what will happen if you are cast out of the harem?”
“…I do not.”
“If you are lucky, you may be given as a gift to an official. If you are unlucky, you may end up in the arms of a different man every night.”
Hürrem, only ten years old, trembled at those words.
She had watched her family die horribly before her eyes and had been dragged here as a slave; she did not want her life to end in such a way.
After looking down for a moment at Hürrem, who was seized by fear, Fatima held out a hand to her.
“I shall give you one more chance. Attend upon me.”
“Valide Hatun!”
When the kalfas cried out in alarm, Fatima waved a hand.
“Enough. Is she not still a child? If we give her one more chance, Allah will surely be pleased as well.”
“Understood. Alexandra, hurry and express your gratitude!”
“Th-thank you, Valide Hatun.”
Fatima smiled softly at Hürrem as she awkwardly performed the etiquette she had learned, then spoke to the kalfa.
“Take her away and teach her manners step by step, starting from the beginning.”
“Understood.”
Once Hürrem and the kalfas withdrew, Fatima, left alone, erased her benevolent smile.
“Why did the Padishah show interest in you?”
Having moved the harem for that one reason alone, Fatima stopped the hand with which she had been tapping the table.
“Since I have made her follow me according to plan, I will know if I keep watching.”
It was Hürrem’s first step into the jungle-like life of the harem.
∗ ∗ ∗
Seated in a splendid bedchamber, Ismail stroked the hair of the woman beside him.
“Tajlu.”
“…Yes, my Shah.”
Tajlu, who had been summoned to the bedchamber for the first time since she had been abducted by Yusuf, now the Padishah, answered in a small voice.
Her heart pounded violently.
It was not because Ismail had called for her after so long.
The hand brushing through her hair held more chill than affection, and his gentle voice felt like a snake coiling around her entire body.
“My beautiful woman, it has been long since we were together like this, has it not?”
“It has.”
The hand that had begun at her hair openly roamed over her body, but what Tajlu felt was fear rather than shame.
Because the touch he had now was so very different from when she had once been held in his arms.
“Are you so tense because it has been so long?”
“No, my lord.”
“Is that so?”
Ismail lifted Tajlu’s chin with his hand, met her eyes, and asked.
“Then you must be tense because of the rats who have been helping you, you bitch?”
At the voice that suddenly pierced in, Tajlu’s eyes shook violently.
Facing Tajlu, who was so startled her heart nearly stopped, Ismail twisted his face hideously.
“Why did you do it? Did you think I would not know? I, who am favored by Allah!”
“I-I am sorry!”
Trembling, Tajlu immediately lowered herself before Ismail.
Ismail, looking down at her with cold eyes, pressed his foot hard onto her head.
“Do not worry. I will not kill you. However, you will never leave this room until the day you die.”
“My Shah!”
Despite Tajlu’s desperate cry, Ismail left the room without hesitation, and the door was firmly shut.
Late that night, torches rose throughout Tabriz.
To eliminate the rats who had witnessed the envoy from Venice.
∗ ∗ ∗
After long deliberation, Mengli stepped down from the position of khan of the Crimean Khanate.
Outwardly, he declared that he was yielding the khan’s seat due to old age and would spend the rest of his life in Ottoman Kostantiniyye, but no one fully believed those words.
After all, it had been a long time since he had installed a co-ruler, something akin to a regency in which a king, due to age or illness, entrusts state affairs to his successor, so it was quite strange for him to go so far as to abdicate.
To anyone’s eyes, it was retaliation for his past conduct in siding with Selim, and for the Crimean Khanate, this was a shocking outcome.
‘Even if we belong to the Ottomans, the Khagan is stepping down this easily?’
‘And this is not just anyone, but Lord Mengli!’
From the Ottoman perspective, Mengli was a man who had sworn loyalty and become a vassal, but in the Crimean Khanate, he was a great khan.
After all, he had achieved military feats great enough to defeat the last khan of the Kipchak Khanate, seize its capital, and declare himself Khagan, emperor.
Yet it made them realize anew that even this great khan existed only beneath the empire called the Ottomans.
In a way, the authority he had painstakingly built up over decades had collapsed in a single moment.
He had endured this humiliating result, but that did not mean everything was resolved.
“Lord Saadet, how long must we remain like this?”
Bodies filthy with dirt and dust, and even their clothes were ragged.
Seeing the men grumbling with faces steeped in fatigue, Saadet gave a bitter smile.
Where had the bold warriors who rode across the steppe on horseback and slaughtered their enemies gone? Now they looked like slaves being dragged away as spoils.
“Wait and see. My father and I are continuing to convey our words to the Padishah.”
At Saadet’s words, the soldiers wore dissatisfied expressions, but they nodded.
It was not something that would be resolved by whining.
Battle and plunder were as natural to them as breathing, and even despite Selim’s warning, many of them had been unable to abandon their old habits when they crossed the walls of the capital.
Selim, who had received their help and lacked the capacity to control them, had turned a blind eye to the situation at the time, but Yusuf had no reason to show them leniency.
He had declared that he would single out and punish those who had committed crimes, and at a glance, this seemed like an entirely natural action.
‘The problem is how to single out the guilty when quite some time has already passed. In truth, it’s practically impossible.’
Saadet knew well why Yusuf had made this absurd declaration.
Because after the meeting that had greatly shaken his heart, Saadet had met Yusuf several more times and heard the reason directly.
‘He told me to win their favor and then swing the sword.’
On the grounds that he might provoke the captives, Mengli was forbidden from visiting them, and the sole channel of communication became Saadet.
If they wanted to escape hard labor, to have proper meals, or to receive treatment for their wounds, they needed Saadet’s help.
The soldiers began to look favorably on Saadet, who came to them every day and listened to their requests, and when he told the official Yusuf had assigned of those who were firmly Mehmed’s men, the sword was swung.
“Let go! Let me go! What woman did I take for you to do this?”
“Silence!”
A Janissary placed a blade against the resisting captive’s neck, and the soldiers swiftly gagged and bound him before dragging him away.
Another commander disappeared like this, and like those dragged away before him, he would likely be sentenced to penal labor.
As Saadet watched the scene with sunken eyes, a soldier hurriedly ran toward him.
“Lord Saadet Giray! It is the Padishah’s command that you enter the palace at once.”
At the summons of the Padishah, who had never once called for him urgently before, Saadet gulped.
The moment of choice had suddenly drawn near.
∗ ∗ ∗
Yusuf leaned back leisurely in his chair and asked Hadim Ali Pasha.
“How has Zenbilli been moving lately?”
“No differently than usual. He has been meeting with Islamic figures such as the ulama and imams.”
“Hmm, I see.”
The fact that Zenbilli Ali Efendi, the Islamic religious leader of the Ottomans, and Islamic scholars such as the ulama were frequently in contact meant that there was that much dissatisfaction.
Islam was such that it did not even encourage translating the Quran out of concern that its meaning might be distorted, yet Yusuf was distorting Islam by his very existence.
It had gone so far that Zenbilli, who had come to see him, asked, “Do you intend to become a god?”
Of course, to Zenbilli, who had asked him that, Yusuf had answered indifferently, “I have no intention of becoming something so cumbersome.”
‘A human may fail, but a god must not fail.’
No matter how much luck he had, and no matter how much knowledge of the future, he could not always seize victory.
Because life was a thing where unexpected variables appeared and unforeseen outcomes came to pass.
And the higher one climbed, the more a single failure returned as a painful consequence.
‘Just like Ismail.’
He had thought of himself as a god, had been worshiped like one, and then one defeat had reduced him to a broken man, so he was the most fitting example.
In any case, the fact that Zenbilli had gone so far as to say such things directly meant that he was watching the situation closely.
“Your Majesty, please do not worry. No matter how much he may be the Sheikh ul-Islam, he is still an official of the empire and a man of the Padishah.”
“We shall know that by watching him.”
Just as people seek God when they themselves are in dire straits, a state too places greater value on religion when it wavers.
The Ottoman Empire, a rising sun, did not yet regard Islam as all-important, and even if Zenbilli caused trouble, he would not become a major threat.
“More importantly, how long do you intend to remain in the post of a palace eunuch? That position is too small for you.”
Even if he did not return to the seat of grand vizier, there were many positions where Ali could serve.
He could temporarily hold the post of vizier, or he could take the position of Kapudan Pasha, the grand admiral.
After all, Hersekzade, the current grand vizier and also his father-in-law, had held the post of grand admiral when he had stepped down from the position of grand vizier.
The post of palace eunuch was meager for a man of talent who had even served as grand vizier, and at Yusuf’s remark, Ali gave a benevolent smile.
“I thank you for thinking so highly of this old man, but I am more than satisfied simply to be able to serve the Padishah at close hand.”
“You evade me like that again. Fine. If there is a post I need you for later, I can put you there then.”
“I merely obey your command.”
Looking at Hadim Ali Pasha, Yusuf felt he understood why eunuchs had been kept close and favored in every age and land.
They only said words pleasing to their master, so how could one dislike them?
Just as Yusuf gave a faint laugh, the voice of a guard came from outside the audience chamber.
—Your Majesty, Mengli Giray and Saadet Giray have come in response to your command.
“Tell them to enter!”
At Yusuf’s glance, Ali answered in his stead, and the door opened as father and son entered and paid their respects.
“We greet the great Padishah!”
“Rise. We do not have much time.”
At Yusuf’s words, the two rose, and he told them the reason he had summoned them.
“The reason I called you is that a report has come in: Lithuania and Moscow have invaded the Crimean Khanate.”
At Yusuf’s words, Mengli was astonished, while Saadet wore an expression as if what was to come had finally come.
Even thirty years ago, Mengli had formed an alliance with Ivan III, the grand prince of Moscow, and made it possible for Moscow to gain independence from the Mongol states.
However, their relationship was now far from good, to the point that he had invaded Moscow three years ago.
And that was to say nothing of Lithuania, which he had plundered while treating it like a broken vending machine that spat out a drink when struck.
“H-how many enemy troops are there?”
“Hmm, it is not exact, but judging from the urgent request for aid, the two together must number over forty thousand.”
Even that was only the minimum.
Neither country was in a situation of abundance, but if they had drawn their swords, it meant they were certainly thinking of taking this opportunity to bring down the Crimean Khanate.
They would have mustered troops even by overextending themselves, and for the Crimean Khanate, this was a grave threat.
“Your Majesty! Please give us aid!”
“Yes, I intend to give aid as well. I will release the troops taken prisoner and support you with a portion of the Janissaries.”
“Thank you!”
Janissaries armed with gunpowder would be a great force even in small numbers, and toward Mengli, who knelt and expressed his gratitude, Yusuf raised one hand.
It was still too early to receive his thanks.
“However, you must remain in the capital. Saadet will lead the troops in your place.”
“Your Majesty!”
As Mengli shouted in shock, Yusuf glared at him coldly.
“Mengli Gerai, do not forget your position. You are not in the capital as a guest.”
“…I understand.”
Humiliating though it was, Mengli accepted the words that pointed out his circumstances, his face twisting miserably.
Though the old man’s face was filled with indignation, Yusuf turned his head away without concern and spoke to Saadet.
“Saadet.”
“Yes, Padishah.”
“The fate of the Crimean Khanate rests in your hands. You know that, do you not?”
At first hearing, it sounded as though he were speaking of the Crimean Khanate’s situation, precarious as a lamp before the wind, but Saadet knew well that was not what he meant.
For a nation’s fate changes when its ruler changes.
Saadet answered with a hardened expression.
“I know.”
“Then that is enough. There is no time, so you may go.”
At Yusuf’s order of dismissal, the two left the audience chamber, and Saadet moved busily.
Rearming those who had been working to restore the capital as captives and laborers was not something that could be done in a day or two.
Having bustled about until late at night sorting the sick and reclaiming confiscated equipment, Saadet returned to his quarters with an exhausted body, only to face his father, who had been waiting for him until deep into the night.
“Saadet.”
“Yes, Father.”
An uncomfortable silence wrapped around Saadet, and when the moonlight hidden by clouds shone again, Mengli opened the mouth he had kept firmly shut.
“Wolves of the steppe do not fight for rank. You know that, don’t you?”
Contrary to a common misconception, wild wolves rarely fight for rank.
Usually, older individuals or parents who have gone independent and had pups naturally form a pack and become its leaders.
“…I know.”
Mengli’s words meant that it was only natural for the eldest brother to become the leader, and they were also a warning not to covet his brother’s place.
Hearing the answer, Mengli lightly patted his son on the shoulder.
“If you know, then that is enough.”
Saadet only watched Mengli’s back as he slowly disappeared, then let out a hot breath.
“Father, you have grown very old as well.”
Before coming here, his shoulders had seemed so high, but now they were pitiful beyond words.
With those shoulders bent like a warped moon imprinted in his eyes, Saadet opened the door to his room and gave a cold smile.
“Father, do not be mistaken. We are not wolves of the steppe.”
He had not known it while running across the grasslands, but after coming here, he understood it clearly.
They were merely wolves trapped in the cage called the Ottoman Empire.
And a wolf with a collar around its neck does not hesitate to bare its teeth even at its own family.
After that, the progress of everything became strangely slow, and there were many cases where Ottoman officials proved uncooperative.
Watching from afar the troops that were finally departing after a long wait, Yusuf opened his mouth.
“Ali Pasha.”
“Yes, Padishah.”
“Do you know what happens when a wolf licks a man’s hand and shows its belly?”
“I do not know.”
Yusuf turned away without lingering and answered.
“From that moment on, it becomes a dog.”
It seemed he might gain one useful fighting dog from this affair.
∗ ∗ ∗
Boom!
With a thunderous explosion, a column of water and foam surged up where the cannonball fell.
Watching the ship shake from a single shot, Kemal frowned and spoke carefully to Yusuf.
“Padishah, forgive me, but…”
“I know. You mean it is difficult to use as a naval gun.”
“…That is so.”
Kemal bowed his head deeply, but Yusuf waved his hand as if it were nothing.
The naval guns of this era were breech-loading cannons called Verso, weapons that would be called Bulangji cannons after spreading to the East.
Their advantage was that, befitting breech-loaders, they loaded quickly, and in an era when aiming was difficult, they were easier to fire accurately than other cannons.
‘Of course, if they had only advantages, they would not have been replaced by muzzle-loading cannons.’
There was a reason why muzzle-loading cannons would later prevail in the West, to the point that it was only natural to think of modern naval guns as cannons loaded by putting the shot in from the front.
Because breech-loaders did not seal well, the gas that should have pushed the shot escaped backward, weakening their firepower, and the risk of explosion was also greater.
In naval battles, where the side that struck first had a high chance of winning, it was only natural that breech-loading cannons would be pushed out.
Even so, he could not just load ships blindly with them because muzzle-loading cannons would be the best in the future.
There were several problems with using them right away.
“The biggest problem is the ship after all. Isn’t that right?”
“It is. Look at that ship shaking over there.”
The galley with numerous rowers aboard lurched violently from just one shot.
If the sea had not been calm and there had been waves, it would not have been strange for it to capsize.
“It is shaking like that after firing three shots. If more naval guns had been fired at the same time, the ship might have overturned.”
“Indeed.”
This was a sort of transitional period.
It was a time when battles were shifting from boarding actions, in which men climbed onto enemy ships to fight, to cannon duels, and the Ottomans mainly used galleys, which carried many men and were advantageous for hand-to-hand combat.
The problem was that galleys tended to have long, narrow hulls and were vulnerable to waves, and since their oars had to reach the surface of the water, there was also a limit to how high the hull could be built, so they could not carry many naval guns.
“If we are to primarily mount naval guns, we must choose sailing ships rather than the current galleys. However, I question whether those cannons are valuable enough to justify using sailing ships.”
“There is a reason galleys were used in the Mediterranean for so long.”
“That is correct. It may be better to build several galleys with the cost of constructing a sailing ship instead.”
The larger a ship became, the more its construction cost rose sharply, and if confined to the Mediterranean, galleys were not bad.
When sailing the open sea, there was a high chance of encountering rough winds and waves, but the Mediterranean, being an inland sea, was relatively calm.
That was why galleys, vulnerable to waves, had been able to survive for so long.
But was the Mediterranean so docile that they could stubbornly cling to galleys forever? That was not the case either.
‘If it were, I would have had no reason to call Kemal here.’
There was no need to call in a man performing his duties well outside merely to strengthen friendly ties.
In truth, Kemal Reis, for a talented man who had led the navy to victory in sea battles against Venice, met a rather futile end.
He had died after encountering a severe storm while escorting cargo.
It was as though he had proved with his own body that even the most capable captain was nothing more than a trifling creature before the capricious sea.
“Besides, no matter how large a sailing ship is, if the recoil is that severe, we cannot use many naval guns. The impact could damage the hull as well.”
“I have an idea for that.”
There was no need to rack his brains over this problem; the solution would appear if he followed the footsteps of history.
It was not a costly issue either.
“If recoil is the problem, we need only put wheels on the cannon.”
“Wheels, you say?”
At Yusuf’s words, Kemal fell into thought for a moment.
Even without scientific knowledge, it was not difficult to predict the result from past experience.
‘Wheels… It is certainly a good method.’
Kemal looked at Yusuf with a slightly surprised expression.
There were already cannons operated on land that had wheels, so it was not an astonishing idea, but it was an appropriate solution.
“If there are wheels, the gun will be pushed back when it fires, reducing the burden placed on the hull.”
“They will be useful when loading as well. After all, once fired, the gun must be pulled back to load it.”
Since gunpowder and shot had to be loaded through the muzzle, it was necessary to move a naval gun forward and backward.
Kemal nodded at Yusuf’s explanation, but immediately pointed out a problem.
“The problem is that if we do that, the gun will be driven tremendously far backward when fired.”
“An accurate prediction.”
Since it could fire a massive cannonball far away, the force acting in the opposite direction was also tremendous.
It was common for a single shot to send it rolling back more than three meters, and even with wheels, hauling a heavy cannon forward again to fire it was enormous hard labor.
‘If the battle drags on, the men will collapse before the cannons do.’
The likelihood of accidents was also high, and the loading speed would slow as well.
The answer to this was presented by Britain, which became a great naval power.
“That problem can be solved by attaching ropes to the wheeled cannon. They will prevent it from rolling too far back.”
Unable to estimate how much effect merely attaching ropes could have, Kemal let out a groan, and Yusuf smiled lightly.
“Do not worry. It will be more useful than you think.”
It was merely a single rope, but it was a method that made a cannon that had rolled back as much as three meters move only about sixty centimeters.
It was also the secret that allowed British gunners to fire two or three times faster.
“Let us think about naval guns slowly.”
“Understood.”
With galleys currently forming the main force, they could not blindly introduce naval guns right away.
Even if they mounted naval guns on the galleys in operation now, at best they would end up placing a single cannon at the bow.
To properly operate naval guns, they needed to move on to sailing ships. Even the Venetian galleass, the largest type of galley, could carry only fourteen guns.
Even though it was a ship that could not even set sail on its own and had to be towed by other ships, that was all it could manage.
‘And we also need the skill to operate sailing ships in the Mediterranean.’
Operating pure sailing ships without rowers in the calm waters of the Mediterranean was not such a simple matter.
Research was underway in this area, so time was needed.
“More importantly, what is the situation with the canal the Mamluks are digging?”
It was the topic that made his mouth water the most these days.
“Thanks to receiving funding from Venice, they were able to mobilize laborers on a large scale, and it is said that progress is being made quickly.”
“I am glad it is proceeding well according to plan.”
To the puzzled Kemal, Yusuf tossed out meaningful words.
“Do you think that truly came about through the ideas of those two states alone?”
“…Could it be?”
“At times, an invisible hand is at work.”
Even in the original history, the necessity had been felt, but it had never actually been carried out.
The fact that it was now in progress meant that the late Bayezid had not taken his words lightly and had fanned the flames along the way.
Kemal, who had never imagined the Ottomans were behind that massive construction project, looked faint.
‘Since they’ve laid hands on that money pit of a canal, the Mamluks will soon be staggering too.’
The ignorant are always bold.
No matter how famous the Mamluks were for their wealth, opening a canal would inevitably leave them reeling, and by the time they regretted it and tried to bury the matter, they would already have sunk a vast investment into it.
“Give it two or three more years, and they’ll be perfectly ripe to swallow whole.”
It was a chance to devour both the Mamluks, groaning as they dug up the earth with money, and the canal once it had been opened to some extent.
He hoped that day would come quickly.
∗ ∗ ∗
“Damn it! What a dog’s life!”
The man, wrapped in tattered clothes, hid himself in a small cave.
The grain in his pouch was mixed with a great deal of sand, but the man crunched it between his teeth in order to survive.
Shivering, he took only a single sip of precious water, then leaned his disheveled head against the wall.
“May that lightning-struck Ismail drop dead! That cursed bastard.”
How had it come to this?
It had been a day no different from any other.
A day spent compiling information from all over Tabriz and smacking the backs of his subordinates’ heads when they spouted nonsense.
But daily life can turn ominous in an instant.
“Lord Hasan!”
“I told you not to call me by that name! What is it?!”
“Suspicious men have entered the castle. They looked like they came from the West.”
If they had only learned of it after the men entered the castle, that meant they had come thoroughly bundled up.
Of course, one could not enter the castle with one’s face hidden, which was how they had found out.
“…They came from the West?”
Hasan’s face turned grave.
At the very least, they had not come for anything related to trade.
Trading with the Mamluks was far better than trading with the Safavids.
Then there was only one conclusion.
“There’s a high chance they met to keep our empire in check.”
“That would seem to be the case, wouldn’t it? Shouldn’t we report this at once?”
“We should. But did you find out anything else? We need to know at least where they came from.”
When Hasan rebuked him, the subordinate jutted out his lips.
“We were lucky to learn even this much. They said they tried to get a closer look at their faces, but the Qizilbash nearby glared daggers at them.”
“Is that so…?”
At that answer, Hasan felt every hair on his body stand on end.
“The Qizilbash? Why were they paying attention to you?”
The Qizilbash were not men who simply stood guard.
They were people his subordinates, who had entered the palace as servants and the like, would almost never encounter, but the subordinate spoke as if it were nothing.
“They must have just been passing by.”
“…Perhaps not.”
It was only a feeling, but Hasan trusted his instincts.
But by then, he had realized it too late, and the Qizilbash, holding torches aloft, launched a sweep.
Having barely escaped Tabriz through the evacuation route he had prepared in advance, Hasan bit down hard on his lip.
“Those fools. I told them not to call my name carelessly. That’s why they went off to Allah so futilely.”
Thinking of the subordinates who had called his name and urged him to leave quickly, Hasan forced down the surge of emotion in his chest.
He had to return.
Only then could the subordinates who had given their lives to protect the secret be properly rewarded, and only then could he take revenge on Ismail.
“And when I get back, I’m changing my name first.”
Because it was certain that the name Hasan was cursed after all.
Hasan sharpened the blade of vengeance.
∗ ∗ ∗
Clang! Clang!
-Kill every bastard who resists!
Uruj, who had accepted Yusuf’s offered hand and was returning to his base in Tunis to recruit sailors, spotted a passing ship.
Just as a sparrow cannot pass by a mill, a pirate cannot simply pass by prey that looks good to eat.
The four galleys led by Uruj caught up with the fleeing ship and engaged in close-quarters boarding combat.
“Aaaaargh!”
Uruj chuckled as he watched an enemy sailor, badly slashed, fall into the sea. At the signal that the ship had been seized, he climbed aboard.
The deck had become a mess of hacked-up enemy corpses and blood, and Uruj lightly kicked aside a body blocking his path before frowning.
“Why the hell are there so many wounded?!”
“Brother, the enemy resisted harder than expected. There were a lot who looked like soldiers too.”
At Hajir’s excuse, his forearm cut in a long gash, Uruj pulled a cloth from his chest and wrapped the wound.
“That still doesn’t mean you’re allowed to get hurt! How careless can you be?”
“It hurts!”
“Stop whining!”
After lightly smacking the whimpering Hajir on the back, Uruj was approached by a subordinate who came running over with a pale face.
“Captain! These bastards are paupers! There’s no cargo at all!”
“What kind of bullshit is that?!”
It made no sense to operate a ship this large without carrying a single load.
Uruj hurriedly searched the ship, and when he realized there truly was little of value, he spoke with an incredulous expression.
“Hey, bring me one who’s still alive!”
“Yes, Captain!”
The sailor who answered thus dragged over the man wearing the most expensive clothes, and Uruj drove a knife deep into the back of the trembling man’s hand.
The man, dripping snot and tears as he cried out in pain, had his hair seized, and he shouted while shaking violently.
“S-spare me! If you contact V-Venice, I will pay any amount!”
It was the cry of an unlucky envoy.