The One Who Came Seeking India
The former pope, Leo X, had caused many problems.
Born of the Medici family, Leo X had little sense for money and indulged in tremendous extravagance.
Early in his reign, he exhausted the finances that had been accumulated up to that point, and though he sold more than two thousand ecclesiastical offices to earn three million ducats, after eight years as pope, what he left behind was a debt of four hundred thousand ducats.
In other words, he had squandered millions of ducats in a mere eight years, an enormous sum when one considered that the bribes Charles V scattered about in order to become emperor of the vast Holy Roman Empire amounted to eight hundred fifty thousand ducats.
Moreover, by approving the sale of indulgences to fund the construction of St. Peter’s Basilica, he had even triggered the Reformation.
In short, the current pope, Hadrian VI, was in a position where he had to resolve the many problems his predecessor had created, and he had done his utmost to do so.
The pope, who had at least believed as much, asked the assembled cardinals,
“Do you hear it? The voices of the citizens out there.”
The shouts cursing the barbarian pope who had colluded with infidels could be heard noisily even inside the Holy See.
“We hear them well, Your Holiness. But how can we stop so many citizens?”
“It is the behavior of the ignorant. It will subside with time.”
“We think so as well, Your Holiness.”
Seeing the cardinals smile as they said so, the pope clenched his fist tightly.
When he had tried to abolish indulgences and ban the sale of ecclesiastical offices, those who had resisted most fiercely were the cardinals.
The fact that the dreadful contents of the letter he had seen had spread throughout Rome in only a few days would have been impossible without the cardinals’ hands at work.
‘From the moment they placed that personal letter in my hands, it was their scheme.’
Those who devoted themselves to isolating the pope would never have shown him a personal letter sent by an infidel emperor without first checking it.
Suppressing the anger boiling up inside him, the pope asked in an enraged tone,
“Would it have been better than this if I had sided with Emperor Carlos from the beginning?”
Hadrian had been acquainted with Charles V, having served as his personal tutor, but as pope, he had declared himself neutral in order to govern with fairness and impartiality.
To this question, the cardinals gave evasive answers.
“We do not know.”
“Then was it wrong to arrest Cardinal Soderini, who had been plotting with the king of France?”
“We do not know.”
“…Then it must have been wrong for me to try to cut off your sources of money.”
Seeing the cardinals smirk without even attempting an excuse, the pope felt as if his chest had been blocked tight.
To him, a devout and ascetic cleric who offered Mass every day, and a learned professor besides, Rome, steeped in secular corruption, was a monster too difficult to bear.
It was hard to find a cardinal who did not have even a single illegitimate child, and there were countless men who seemed to follow money rather than God.
When he was elected pope, he had been so ignorant of Rome’s circumstances that he had worried over the lodging he would have to stay in. The Rome he had imagined had at least not been a place like this.
“Where, indeed, is the Lord in this place?”
As the pope lamented in a low voice, the door opened and an urgent voice rang out.
“Your Holiness! The infidel emperor has sent another personal letter!”
Seeing the cardinals smiling at the news that another letter from the infidel had arrived, the pope ground his teeth.
Inside, cardinals steeped in worldly desire had isolated him, and outside, the citizens of Rome shouted that he was an infidel barbarian.
Feeling as though the world itself was trying to kill him, the pope came to a realization.
“Is this a trial the Lord has bestowed upon me?”
At the pope’s unexpected words, the cardinals’ eyes wavered, and after reading the letter, the pope raised his aged body.
“Satan is trying to obstruct the reform of the Church. If that is so, then all the more I cannot let go.”
He would burn away the last of his life and, without fail, accomplish reform.
With firm resolve, the pope looked down at the cardinals.
∗ ∗ ∗
At the news that had come from the Papal States, Yusuf smiled.
“He is more resolute than I thought. An excellent man sits as pope.”
Of course, Hadrian VI was politically incompetent, but compared to the previous pope, Leo X, he was far better.
Unlike his predecessor, who had indulged in tremendous extravagance, he set an example through an extremely frugal life.
Though in the eyes of the citizens of Rome, who pursued visible splendor over a treasury rotting from within, he must have seemed like a barbarian who knew nothing of art.
“The pope has declared that he will attempt Church reform once more. It seems he intends to start by changing indulgences again.”
“He will enter into sharp conflict with the cardinals once again. Did he not fail last time because the cardinals blocked him?”
At Suleiman’s words, Yusuf smiled.
He had tossed in kindling, but he had not particularly cared what form the results would take. Now that things were progressing like this, however, it seemed they would be worth watching.
“Now that things have turned out this way, I hope the pope lives a long life.”
War with Italy was already imminent, and in the Papal States, one axis of that war, the pope and the cardinals had begun squabbling with each other.
On top of that, Martin Luther, who was crying out for religious reform, was also moving actively, so it was obvious they would find it difficult to pay attention to the Ottomans.
‘In the original history, they say he died of overwork and the summer heat, but I don’t know what will happen this time.’
Since his very mindset had changed, as long as he was not poisoned, he might even live longer.
For a while, all Yusuf needed to do was watch European affairs from a bystander’s stance, so he ended the conversation and looked ahead.
“Pull it carefully! I said move slowly!”
As a cannon fitted with wooden wheels passed over the wooden planks connected to the ship, a creaking sound rang out, and the laborers moving the cannon raised their voices.
The sight of the cannons waiting for their turn filling the harbor was exhausting just to look at.
“How are the quantities?”
“There are enough siege guns for the French army, but we are short on the naval guns the pirates want.”
“There has been great demand for naval guns recently, so it cannot be helped. If only Tahir were still alive.”
Yusuf ran his hand over his well-worn gun.
The craftsman who had been with him since Trabzon had done his utmost until his back bent with age, but he had not been able to overcome the passage of time.
The boring machine used to bore cannons, which was also a matter of secrecy, had been built under Tahir’s leadership, and so his absence was keenly felt.
Suleiman, who had researched the boring machine together with Tahir, recalled the craftsman’s rough voice and gave a bitter smile.
“There are the disciples he left behind.”
“Tch. Since we cannot bring a dead man back from Allah’s embrace, it cannot be helped. Tell them to build additional boring machines for use in producing naval guns.”
Hearing Yusuf’s order, Suleiman grasped his intention.
The demand for naval guns had increased temporarily because of the pirates.
In time, demand would decrease, and the boring machines they had gone to the trouble of making would become surplus equipment. Yet there was only one reason he would insist on increasing the number of boring machines.
“Are you thinking of increasing the number of ships beyond the current level?”
“The only time we have the leeway to go farther afield is now. Once war begins in the west, I intend to send a fleet east.”
As the Ottomans had entered a close relationship with France earlier than in the original history, the course of the war could no longer be certain, but even so, the war would not continue forever.
Once the war was more or less concluded, they would be even more wary of the Ottomans than they were now, and when that time came, he would not be able to empty his forces carelessly.
‘I also have to consider the worst-case scenario, in which France betrays us.’
Once the Ottomans began raking in gold coins thanks to the canal, they might start having other ideas.
Even if they came invading with an agreement to divide Ottoman lands among themselves, Yusuf was confident he would not be surprised in the least.
In Aesop’s fables, the man does not cut open the belly of the goose that lays the golden eggs for no reason.
Because greed is not something one can easily keep under control.
“If you say east, do you mean Ming? I have heard some things from sailors who have gone as far as Malacca.”
“It is a vast empire comparable to our own.”
Though he said this, in terms of underlying strength, Ming was the more impressive.
For one thing, its population was far greater, and an empire that had not yet entered its period of decline was that powerful.
The Ottomans, which had grown explosively under Yusuf’s reign, did not have enough time to catch up in such a short period.
‘Still, when it comes to military power, we are comparable.’
After all, the Ottomans, which had been actively waging wars of conquest until recently, were in a state where their military power was almost abnormal in its strength.
“Then what scale of fleet are you considering?”
“At least sixty carracks.”
“…Are you planning to wage war?”
Carracks varied depending on their size, but if there were sixty of them, the cannons loaded aboard alone would exceed a thousand.
He was saying he would send a number so great that no one could blame the other side for being startled and thinking it an invasion, so it was only natural for Suleiman to react this way.
“We will need to send that many for them to show interest. Of course, the scale may change depending on the situation.”
“Then I must hope the scale decreases.”
At those words, Yusuf smiled.
Whether it would decrease or increase remained to be seen.
“We will inform Ming so there is no needless friction, and if we are to prepare for a long-distance voyage, we will not depart until next year at the earliest. In the meantime, we must lay the foundations for the trade route.”
“It will be difficult work.”
Even in India alone, there were already signs of backlash against the Ottomans, who had absorbed Portuguese territory as it was.
There was no need to mention the hardship involved in suppressing their dissatisfaction and ensuring matters proceeded smoothly.
Suleiman was thinking that he did not know who would take it on, but that person would surely suffer, when Yusuf patted him on the shoulder.
“So I will be counting on you, Suleiman Pasha.”
“…Padishah?”
“I will also be counting on you for the fleet going to Ming.”
Suleiman’s eyes trembled. It had not been long since he had more or less put the Ottoman language in order and finally caught his breath, yet now he had been entrusted with another enormous task.
“There is no one more suited than you. The one who leads a fleet to Ming must have at least a certain standing, must he not? Yet I cannot send the princes.”
Most of the princes were still young, and if they were taken prisoner or died during the voyage, the empire would be turned upside down.
Compared to them, Suleiman had been stripped of his right of succession, but he was still Yusuf’s nephew, so his status was high.
On top of that, his personal abilities were outstanding, making him the most suitable person to deal with Ming in Yusuf’s stead.
“I am grateful that Your Padishah trusts me, but this humble servant lacks experience in such matters.”
“I know.”
Compared to the Suleiman of the original history, who had accumulated a wide range of experiences under Selim’s favor, there were several areas in which he fell short.
Suleiman was worried that a single misstep might ruin the Padishah’s plan, and Yusuf understood that concern as well.
“You need not worry. I have already prepared your helper.”
“Is that so?”
At the word that he would have a helper, Suleiman’s face brightened slightly.
He did not know who it would be, but since the outstanding Padishah Yusuf must have chosen the person after careful consideration, he could afford to worry a little less.
“Then who is it?”
“Your helper? He has already set out ahead of you.”
∗ ∗ ∗
“So this is Goa. I have finally arrived.”
The man with a large scar on his face raised his head.
At the fortress in the center of the harbor, the red flag symbolizing the Ottoman Empire fluttered in the wind.
Goa, once ceded to Portugal, had welcomed a new master and become an even more dynamic port than before.
“We not Portugal! Venice! Venice!”
“Yes, Venice!”
A merchant who seemed to have come from Venice was desperately explaining to the frowning Arab merchants that he was not Portuguese.
Merchants who had purchased spices loaded their goods onto ships with beaming faces.
As the man moved through the bustling harbor, where everyone was busy with their own work, he felt an impact against his chest and lowered his head.
“Sorry! I am sorry!”
When the boy, apologizing repeatedly with clumsy Turkish and bowing his head again and again, tried to pass by, the man seized his arm.
“Your hands are rather quick.”
“Huh?!”
When the pouch he had pulled from the man’s breast was somehow back in the man’s hand, the boy’s face turned pale.
The boy, caught pickpocketing, struggled to escape, but it was difficult to break free from that rough hand.
The scene of a friend who had been caught before losing his hand flashed before his eyes, and the boy bit his lip hard, gripping the small knife tucked inside his clothes.
“What is going on here!”
At the shout of an Ottoman soldier who had heard the commotion, the boy squeezed his eyes shut.
It was far too late to run.
As the boy trembled, bracing himself for the punishment to come, a rugged hand settled on top of his head.
“I will pretend not to have seen what happened just now, so why not work with me?”
At those words, the boy cautiously raised his head, and seeing the man’s lips curve into a smile, he gave a small nod.
“So, what is your name?”
“Hasan. It’s Hasan.”
At the name Hasan, the man clicked his tongue briefly, then lowered himself and said,
“I am Hasan as well. I look forward to working with you.”
The Devil’s Tongue had come to India.
∗ ∗ ∗
Yusuf lifted his brush and drew a curve.
The map remaining in his memory took on more substance with every added line.
‘Modern maps are not perfect.’
The nearly five hundred years during which nature and humanity had exerted their influence was not a short span, and there were many parts that did not match the present.
Even in the Netherlands alone, twenty-five percent of the entire country consisted of reclaimed land, to the point that there was a joke saying God created the world, but the Dutch created the Netherlands.
If one looked only at local details, there were many inaccuracies due to reclamation, climate change, coastal development, coastal erosion, rising sea levels, and the like, but it did not matter when drawing a simplified version.
Drawing past the Arabian Peninsula and then the Indian Peninsula, Yusuf opened his mouth.
“India is too vast a land to simply call a peninsula.”
There was a reason India was called a subcontinent.
It was also because the Himalayas made it culturally very different from the surrounding regions.
“Suleiman.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“What do you think would happen if we tried to hastily occupy this vast land as we have done before?”
“It does not seem desirable.”
“Correct. If we make a mistake, it would be like stepping into a quagmire.”
Yusuf, who had been drawing the Korean Peninsula and the Japanese archipelago beyond the lands of Ming, lifted his hand.
Compared to the delicate work of mapmakers of this era, it left much to be desired, but it was good enough to look at.
“It is a region that has never once been unified under a single country in all of history. That is why it displays immense diversity in language, script, culture, religion, and more.”
Even in modern times, there were over a hundred languages that could be called major languages, and nearly sixteen hundred more were classified as other languages, like dialects.
The number changed depending on how one defined languages and dialects, but even taking that into account, it was still an astonishing figure.
“When embracing such diversity and binding it into a single state, do you know what the most useful tool is?”
“I believe it would be religion.”
At Suleiman’s answer, Yusuf nodded.
Even the Ottomans had formed communities by religion rather than by ethnic group.
“Watch closely. The central and southern regions, which we must concern ourselves with immediately, can be seen as divided between Islam and Hinduism. Goa, the occupied territory, lies in the center and belongs to the Islamic state of Bijapur.”
“I heard that Şemsi Pasha used Your Majesty’s position as Caliph to drive away the envoy from Bijapur.”
Yusuf raised the corners of his mouth.
“Do you truly think they withdrew because they submitted to the authority of the Caliph? They withdrew because they could not easily turn hostile.”
The Caliph was the Islamic equivalent of the Pope, but his authority was not great.
The title of Caliph was nothing more than a fine-looking pretext to add to one’s justification.
“At any rate, in the south, where Hinduism is the state religion, the Vijayanagara Empire originally waged war for a long time against the Bahmani Sultanate in the center.”
Suleiman, studying the map, continued.
“The one that survived was Vijayanagara.”
“Yes. Bahmani declined, and the sultan was reduced to the prime minister’s puppet while the country split into five. Those five together are called the Deccan Sultanates.”
The Deccan Sultanates was a collective term for the five sultanates: Ahmadnagar, Berar, Bidar, Golconda, and Bijapur, which had lost Goa.
Even the first sultanate to gain independence was younger than Yusuf himself, and Golconda, the last to become independent, had done so only five years ago.
In the Deccan region, the five sultanates bickered among themselves, while to the south stood their common enemy, the Vijayanagara Empire.
There was no need to say more about how chaotic the surrounding region must be, and Yusuf raised the corners of his mouth.
“Do you think this chaos will be disadvantageous to the Empire?”
“Would that not depend on how it is used?”
“Correct. The mission entrusted to you before you go to Ming is to lay the foundation for India. How do you think you should move?”
At Yusuf’s question, Suleiman sank into deep thought.
He sometimes posed mischievous questions and evaluated the answers, so Suleiman needed to answer carefully.
Of course, failing to give an answer that pleased him would not cause any great harm.
‘Still, I do not want to make him feel disappointed.’
Though he buried him in work and often acted mischievously, Suleiman vividly remembered the conversation between his father, Selim, and the Padishah.
Thinking of his father, who had declared that there was no chance of being disappointed in such a clever child, and of the Padishah, who had shown mercy and spared his life, Suleiman had no choice but to choose his answer cautiously.
‘The safest choice would be to appease Bijapur, which lost Goa. No matter what, they are fellow Muslims.’
The problem was that the Padishah before him never chose ordinary options.
The very idea of sending a personal letter full of praise to the Pope, who was crying out for the overthrow of the Ottomans, and throwing the Papal States into chaos was already beyond the bounds of normality.
After pondering over and over how the Padishah would move, Suleiman grasped his intention.
“…You do not intend to make contact with the Deccan Sultanates first. You intend to contact the Hindu Vijayanagara Empire first.”
At Suleiman’s answer, Yusuf’s lips spread into a deep smile.
“As expected, you are clever. Ali Pasha sighed when he heard my thoughts.”
“How could I have dared do such a thing? It was merely because age has made my breathing labored.”
“Yes, let us say that is what it was.”
Exchanging jokes with Hadim Ali Pasha, who stood beside him as a eunuch, Yusuf pointed with his hand to the Goa region on the map.
“As you said, I intend to contact the Vijayanagara Empire first. As you can see, Goa lies between Bijapur and the Empire.”
There was a reason Portugal had taken Goa.
“If we want to soothe Bijapur’s feelings after losing Goa, some half-hearted compensation will hardly be enough.”
“And Your Majesty does not particularly favor coaxing and appeasing people.”
“That is not wrong.”
Even he had to admit that his temperament was not so good that he would sit and listen to someone sulk.
It suited his nature better to slap them across the face with a cannon and threaten them to stay quiet if they did not want to die.
“At present, the Deccan Sultanates and the Vijayanagara Empire are in a state of balance. Neither side can readily bring down the other.”
The sultanates, having been founded not long ago, lacked the national strength to conquer the Empire, while the Empire was wary that if it stirred things up needlessly, the Deccan Sultanates might unite as one.
In the original history, this structure continued for over a hundred years.
“But if our Empire takes one side’s hand, the story changes. Even just providing weapons would make the scales tip sharply.”
It meant that the Ottomans could play the role of game changer and overturn the situation in India.
Seeing the arc drawn by his eyes, Suleiman smiled back.
“There is no need for us to break this balance, is there?”
“Correct. There is no need to needlessly strengthen another country. We can walk the line in the middle and take the benefits. To do that, we must first make contact with Vijayanagara.”
For Vijayanagara, the Ottomans would be more frightening than the Portuguese, who had approached them barbarically. If the Ottomans supported fellow Islamic states, it could become dangerous.
In this situation, they would first make contact with Vijayanagara to soothe their worries, while instilling a sense of crisis in the Deccan Sultanates.
In other words, the one who had to bring out the gifts would be reversed.
“Your task is to maintain the balance from the middle. Hasan will draw the groundwork for that.”
Mainly in the direction of instilling a sense of crisis, that is.
Hasan was the Tongue of Satan, the man for whom Hersekzade, currently researching surnames, was seriously considering attaching the surname Shaytan.
With someone like him helping, Suleiman could at least have some peace of mind.
“And you know that an examination to select officials was held not long ago. If there is a decent person among them, choose one and take him with you.”
“Will that really be all right? I imagine the officials in the capital will dislike it.”
If he took away the newcomers from officials who said that one well-raised recruit was worth more than ten sons, backlash was all but guaranteed.
“If anyone says they dislike it, tell them to come with me to the Ming in their place. Then they’ll hand them over quietly.”
Recalling how the officials of the capital had been avoiding his gaze lately, Suleiman wore a smile of resignation.
∗ ∗ ∗
Behind the standard-bearer flying the red Ottoman flag, a little over a hundred men moved with a sharp, honed air, while around them the Vijayanagara imperial troops they had met at the border surrounded them in both vigilance and protection.
Receiving gazes mixed with curiosity and fear, Hassan twisted the scar on his face.
“It is uncomfortable, having people stare so openly like this.”
At Hassan’s words, the subordinate beside him burst into laughter.
“You are not only an envoy, but you have also taken on the post of sanjak-bey of Goa. Shouldn’t you get used to it?”
“It is only temporary. Temporary.”
Hassan answered firmly and stroked the head of the boy seated in front of him.
He was a child with whom he had become connected as pickpocket and victim, and the fact that they shared the same name made him take an even greater interest.
When he taught him personally, the boy proved clever, and he was adaptable enough to grow accustomed to his changed circumstances in no time.
The boy still seemed unfamiliar with receiving affection, rolling his eyes as he tried to read the mood, and Hassan was pressing down gently on his head when—
“That is Vijayanagara.”
At those words, Hassan lifted his head.
Vijayanagara, the capital of the Vijayanagara Empire, was so prosperous that it was difficult to take it all in at a glance.
It was a great city where countless people came and went, including merchants not only from nearby Deccan and Goa, but from as far away as Persia.
‘If one considers only the prosperity of the capital, it may even rival the Empire.’
Looking at the largest medieval city after Beijing, and the wealthiest city in India, Hassan swallowed his admiration inwardly.
He could understand the Padishah’s command never to take the states of India lightly.
Boldly flying the Ottoman flag as he set foot in the capital, Hassan quickly scanned his surroundings.
“Gokhan.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“There are many here who look like Deccan merchants. You know well what you must do, don’t you?”
Just because the Vijayanagara Empire and the Deccan Sultanates, which occupied the Deccan region, continued to wage local wars against each other did not mean the border had been sealed.
Merchants who moved in pursuit of profit traveled to and from the most economically prosperous city in India, and they were also the eyes and ears of the Deccan Sultanates.
At Hassan’s question, Gokhan nodded.
“The preparations are already complete.”
“Good.”
Merchants sensitive to the surrounding political situation were sure to run about trying to discover why an Ottoman envoy had appeared here.
And they would hear the rumor that relations with the Ottomans had soured because of the Deccan Sultanates’ excessive demands.
For now, it could be said that the first button had been fastened properly.
“What do you think of the scenery of the Empire?”
In a capital, even the post of gatekeeper guarding the city gate was not a low one, and the general of the Vijayanagara Empire who had joined them upon their entry into the capital asked through a Persian interpreter.
His words were filled with pride as he tried to discern the intentions of this envoy who had arrived so suddenly, and his eyes gleamed. Hassan lightly surveyed their surroundings.
Just the exotic sight of Hindu temples, so distinctly different from mosques, the well-paved roads, and the well-maintained waterways were enough to warrant a favorable answer.
“I had only heard of this place in rumors, but now that I have come in person, admiration comes naturally. I think it is truly a splendid city.”
“Hahaha, thank you for evaluating it so. His Majesty the Emperor, having heard in advance of the envoy’s visit, has permitted an audience at any time. Would you like to recover from your journey first?”
“I will put off resting from the journey until later.”
At Hassan’s words, the general led the envoy’s party toward the palace.
Accompanied by a portion of his unarmed men, Hassan passed through palace corridors adorned with exotic and splendid decorations, and was able to meet the emperor.
As the doors opened along with the booming voice of an attendant, Hassan entered and offered a light bow.
“I am Hassan Pasha, envoy of the Ottoman Empire and sanjak-bey of Goa. It is an honor to meet the master of the Empire.”
“You have labored much to come so far. I have always been curious what sort of place the empire that drove back Portugal might be.”
At the words of Krishna Deva Raya, who had built the greatest empire in India since the Delhi Sultanate and was leading the Vijayanagara Empire to its golden age, Hassan raised the corners of his mouth.
“Such a small, petty state cannot compare to the Empire. The guns Your Majesty received are inferior to those used by the soldiers of the Empire, and the knowledge of Portugal, from whom you received aid for your water supply, is outdated technology in the Empire.”
It was not simply a statement elevating the Ottoman Empire.
It meant that he knew that much about the inner circumstances of the Vijayanagara Empire, and it was also a statement pressing them over the close relationship they had maintained with Portugal.
Krishna’s face stiffened slightly, and Hassan continued.
“I did not say it to offend you. I merely wished to tell you that Portugal, with whom you joined hands against the Deccan Sultanates, has already vanished. What remains is the Ottoman Empire.”
Hassan licked his lips with his tongue.
∗ ∗ ∗
“What is your name?”
While examining the new officials who would accompany him, Suleiman asked the man who had been bothering him, and the man bowed his head.
“I am Ibrahim from Manisa, Pasha.”
The man who, in the original history, had won the favor of Suleiman the Magnificent and possessed power and authority equal to his, answered in a calm voice.