Putting the House in Order
Although ninety percent of Trabzon’s population was Christian, most of the power was held by the Turkic Muslims who made up the remaining ten percent.
The power struggle between Yusuf and the sipahis was a matter of another world to them, but that did not mean they were so ignorant or indifferent that they failed to grasp the situation.
They kept their senses sharp in case sparks flew their way, and in lives with little else to enjoy, it became excellent gossip.
To the residents who had been discussing how matters would unfold from here on, the news that a shop was opening came completely out of the blue.
Even after hearing what it would sell, they could not hide their confusion.
“Barley water? Who would buy something like that to drink?”
“Water is everywhere. Why would anyone buy drinking water separately?”
In a large city like Kostantiniyye, there were even water carriers who drew water from springs or fountains into leather skins and delivered it, and drinking water was distinguished from other water, so collected rainwater was not drunk but used for housework or gardens.
But that was something one could expect only in a large city with a high average standard of living. In Trabzon, those with enough leisure to use water carriers kept slaves or servants instead.
To the people here, buying water to drink was unfamiliar and difficult to understand. The atmosphere began to change only after the promotion using Sinan’s name spread.
When word got around that it was good for people who often had stomachaches, and especially for young children, people tilted their heads.
“Water boiled with barley is that good for the body?”
“They say a physician from the capital guarantees it. If he’s a physician skilled enough to accompany His Highness, he must be trustworthy.”
In truth, to people of this era, physicians were not particularly reliable.
Because they lacked a concept of hygiene, and patients often grew worse due to improper procedures, people still avoided going to physicians even up to the nineteenth century.
However, the title of physician who had come with the prince was enough to trigger an authority bias that made the words of those in power feel unquestionably correct.
The fact that Sinan was, in reality, a surgeon who carried around surgical tools closer to lethal weapons did not matter.
Seeing the mood flow as expected, Yusuf gave a new order.
“Ayşe, until the shop is completed, try providing barley water to the children around the soup kitchen.”
“For free?”
At Ayşe’s question, Yusuf nodded.
“They have to drink it themselves to know whether it’s good or bad. We also need to find out in advance what problems might arise when we make it in large quantities to sell.”
It was their first business, so publicity and trial and error were necessary.
They would be using barley meant for the soup kitchen anyway, so they only had to consider labor and firewood costs, and the expense was not a burden.
In the long run, the drinking water situation was something that absolutely had to be improved, so he wanted to pay more attention to Ayşe, but circumstances did not flow so easily.
Because Şemsi came to see him with a grave expression.
“The four subaşı who had shown a positive response have changed their attitudes.”
Yusuf nodded.
“So Burka found out after all.”
“Yes. It has been confirmed that Burka’s men visited the subaşı. They likely issued warnings.”
No matter how secretly they moved, it was impossible to hide everything perfectly.
One could say that half the ground outside the castle had become Burka’s eyes and ears.
He had known they would be discovered, but Burka had moved more nimbly than expected.
“Contrary to how he looks, he’s quick-witted. This won’t be easy.”
“It is regrettable that we could not bring the four subaşı over immediately, but that is all.”
The best result would have been to bring the four subaşı to their side, but there was no need to despair because that had failed.
This much was already within the range of their predictions.
“If they were warned, their feelings must have been badly hurt. Once we build up a certain degree of strength, they’ll take our side on their own.”
Burka was probably aware of that as well, but he likely could not even imagine that Yusuf would be able to build that strength.
He must have believed he had the sipahis firmly in his grasp.
“He hasn’t found out about the sipahi support policy we’re preparing, has he?”
“No. He will think the reason I am examining documents is because of the investigation we warned him about earlier. No matter how outstanding he may be, it would be difficult to imagine we are preparing something like this.”
If an opponent anticipated and obstructed a policy that had never once been implemented before, it would be better to quietly admit defeat.
It would mean he was a man more than capable of serving as grand vizier in the capital.
As long as the policy had not been discovered, there would be no disruption to the plan.
“How is the preparation stage?”
“It seems it will take some time before implementation, but it has reached a level where it can be announced.”
“Good. Now that it’s come to this, there’s nothing to gain by dragging things out.”
If the time during which Burka overwhelmingly dominated him grew even a little longer, the current power structure could harden as it was.
If that happened, he would truly have no choice but to keep his head bowed quietly until he came of age, or wait for Burka to die.
Şemsi nodded as if agreeing with Yusuf’s judgment and asked,
“Then shall we announce it?”
At Şemsi’s words, Yusuf pondered for a moment.
“Exclude Trabzon from that plan, and spread a rumor that the reason is because Burka drove the livestock out of the hass that was to become mine.”
“…Are you serious?”
It was no different from declaring that he would have a proper showdown with Burka.
“Everyone who needs to know already knows my relationship with Burka has soured. Even if Burka threatens me, there are limits to what he can do.”
No matter what tricks Burka tried, he could not dare attempt assassination.
If Yusuf died, Burka, as the commander of the castle and the one in charge of public order, could not avoid responsibility, and he would pay for that responsibility with his own life and the lives of his family.
Fatima, the sultan’s woman, was in the same situation.
“It’s the others I’m worried about instead. Pasha bears the title of high official, so I’m less concerned about him, but Burka could easily lay hands on the others.”
“If you are that worried, giving up is also an option. Your pride may be somewhat wounded now, but before you come of age, you will have ample opportunity to suppress Burka.”
At Şemsi’s words, which sounded as if he were testing him, Yusuf’s expression hardened and he shook his head.
“That would only be running away.”
And the Ottoman Empire was a country where a prince who ran away could never become sultan.
He had to endure the possibility that someone might die because of his decision.
Even if that person was someone close to him.
“Will you not regret it?”
“I may regret it. But I’ll have to endure that, too.”
As Şemsi nodded as if he understood, Yusuf added,
“Of course, if he touches my people, I have no intention of letting it pass quietly. If tears fall from my eyes, tears of blood should fall from his.”
That was the only promise he could make to his people.
Şemsi looked at Yusuf for a moment at those words, in which he could feel a firm resolve, then quietly rose from his seat.
“Then I will move to make the policy public. It will be noisy for a while.”
At those words, Yusuf gave a faint laugh.
“Was it ever quiet around me in the first place?”
“That is also true.”
Şemsi, wearing a small smile that was barely visible, left, and the policy announcement made public shortly afterward shook the sanjak.
∗ ∗ ∗
Bang!
“That damned brat!”
Burka, who had smashed the table with his bare fist, trembled as blood dripped from his hand.
Watching his subordinate hurriedly wrap the wound with cloth, Burka let out a long breath.
“I swore I wouldn’t underestimate him, yet I made another mistake.”
“No. This was completely impossible to predict.”
“That is true as well, but I was wrong to feel relieved just because I had warned the other subaşı.”
If he had been the kind to tuck his tail and run over something like that, he would never have taken such a confrontational stance in the first place.
The result of his complacency came painfully home to him.
“What is the mood now?”
“They are being cautious about making direct remarks, but they seem greatly dissatisfied because they are the only ones excluded from the benefit.”
“And that dissatisfaction must be directed at me because of the rumor currently going around.”
At Burka’s self-mocking voice, the subordinate silently bowed his head.
“It will be difficult to keep them from breaking away. It concerns money. Can we not bear the burden in their place?”
“The prince can do this because he can even mobilize the sanjak’s funds.”
“Hahaha, he’s throwing money around in a way that hurts.”
For sipahis, the greater their income, the more soldiers they had to provide when levied, and so the money they had to spend increased accordingly.
No matter how successful a sipahi was, he was not someone who lived with money piled up. They were men who maintained power through the military force and influence they possessed rather than through wealth.
“Hoo… If time passes like this, there will be no answer. If we cannot choose the best option, we must choose the next best.”
The other side had already seized the initiative by making the best move.
Even if he had to make a bold move, he had to take both momentum and practical gain.
“Arda, select four squads of ten.”
“Understood.”
After giving the order, Burka rose from his seat.
He had no intention of being beaten so easily.
∗ ∗ ∗
Since he had dropped the bombshell of the policy announcement, Yusuf paid close attention to Burka’s movements.
It was an age in which one never knew what extreme choice a man holding a sword might make.
Thanks to that, it was not long before he heard that Burka had left the castle with some forty subordinates.
“I cannot tell what he is thinking.”
He would have understood if Burka had drawn his sword and gone about inside the castle, but he could not fathom why he had gone outside.
Even for Şemsi, there was too little information to discern the reason for such unexpected behavior.
After unproductive time had passed meaninglessly, Hasan came to the office with a stiff expression.
“Your Highness, I think you should go outside the castle.”
“What is it?”
“Subaşı Burka is leading a herd of livestock at the castle gate and asking for Your Highness.”
“Livestock?”
Yusuf tilted his head and rose from his seat.
No matter how hard he racked his brains, it was not as good as asking the person himself just once.
If Burka was seeking him so desperately, it was only natural to go and receive him.
As he approached the castle gate with his guards, more and more people had gathered, and the entrance was already teeming as though everyone with time to spare had come out.
As soon as Yusuf appeared, the crowd parted as if they had been waiting, clearing a path for him.
Only then could Yusuf see Burka.
‘What is he thinking?’
It was, quite literally, a herd of livestock.
Flocks of sheep bleated “meh” as if wondering why they were here, and scattered among them were cattle here and there.
Fully armed Sipahis surrounded the herd, which appeared to number in the hundreds at a glance.
Brushing off the blazing eyes peering from beneath their fitted helmets, Yusuf stood before Burka.
“Burka, what is the meaning of this?”
To Yusuf’s question, Burka replied in a cold voice.
“I called for Your Highness to clear up a misunderstanding.”
It was not the voice of a man trying to clear up a misunderstanding, but since he had put it that way, Yusuf asked in a relaxed tone.
“What misunderstanding are you referring to?”
“Rumors have been circulating that I seized the livestock of the land destined to become Your Highness’s has.”
“I had heard such rumors were spreading. So, you are saying it is a misunderstanding?”
Toward Yusuf, who gave a shrewd reply, Burka nodded with an expressionless face.
“I merely purchased livestock at Prince Selim’s request, but I could see how it might be misunderstood. That is why I am trying to clear up this misunderstanding.”
“How do you intend to clear it up?”
Just when Yusuf thought he might mean to return them obediently, Burka’s subordinates moved at his signal.
Shhhk!
Meee!!
Starting with the cry of a sheep whose throat was half-slit, the Sipahis swung their weapons without hesitation.
It did not take long for the livestock that had filled the empty lot to become corpses, and Burka thrust his sword into the head of the last remaining sheep beside him.
Wiping the blood that had splattered even on his face, Burka asked with a sneer.
“Is the misunderstanding cleared up now?”
A pungent smell of blood spread between the two.
When a heavy silence fell over the surroundings, Yusuf smiled.
The entrails and blood spilled by the livestock dyed the ground red, and the thick stench of blood, enough to make one’s stomach churn, assaulted the nose.
Perhaps because they had seen blood, murderous intent surged in the eyes of the Sipahis gripping their blood-dripping swords.
It was an overwhelming scene; the hundreds of onlookers could not even breathe properly, yet Yusuf smiled.
‘I need to show composure and buy time to think.’
Even if the targets were animals, facing such a massacre that resembled madness right before his eyes was quite shocking.
However, he had passed through far too many harrowing experiences to be shaken by something like this.
Steadying his mind in an instant, Yusuf quickly began to think.
It was too bold an action if Burka had simply intended to crush his spirit with a shocking scene.
After repeatedly agonizing over it, Yusuf found the reason without difficulty.
‘Clever. Very clever.’
To anyone else, it might look like simple venting of frustration, but what Burka was really aiming for was to have support policies extended to Trabzon as well.
It was a bold method that the recipient would never have imagined, but slaughtering the livestock gave the impression that he was sincerely trying to clear up the misunderstanding, which was more than enough.
‘If I continue to exclude Trabzon after he has gone this far, there will be chaos.’
It would be fortunate if Yusuf were simply treated as a petty man, but it was obvious that the discontent currently focused on Burka would shift toward him.
For Burka, if he could receive support up to Trabzon, he could minimize defections, and even if he could not, he could escape the discontent.
Rather, in the latter case, the cohesion of his faction might become even stronger.
Once he grasped Burka’s scheme, Yusuf could truly smile.
“Sobashi Burka, that is quite an interesting move.”
Burka twitched one eyebrow.
He had not expected him to see through the reason so quickly.
‘Could it be that the support policy also came from the prince’s own head?’
It was known as a policy devised by the prince, but few fully believed that.
Because such policies could not be made simply by being clever.
Burka had also assumed it was a policy made by the Pasha attached to Yusuf, but it seemed he needed to revise that assumption.
‘It is surprising, but this is not a board that can be overturned.’
Burka asked, feigning ignorance.
“I do not know what you are talking about. More importantly, is the misunderstanding cleared up now?”
Yusuf nodded.
He only had one choice anyway.
“It was not because of that misunderstanding that I excluded Trabzon, but since Sobashi Burka has gone this far, I shall bear the burden and include Trabzon in the policy’s scope.”
“Thank you.”
Burka expressed his gratitude with a smiling face, but he was not done saying what he wanted to say.
The prince had moved as he wished for now, but it would be a shame to send him off just like this.
“Rather, you said you wanted to clear up the misunderstanding, but you are not thinking of simply taking the livestock you seized with you, are you?”
Hand it over, you bastard.
Watching Burka’s face twist in utter dismay, Yusuf laughed.
∗ ∗ ∗
A sudden festival was held in the castle.
Because Yusuf distributed the meat he had received to the people of Trabzon.
It was not money, and there was no way to keep all that meat for himself.
‘Favors are best done with other people’s money, after all.’
Watching Burka make a disgusted expression while the people cheered and shouted Yusuf’s name was quite amusing.
In any case, Muslims could not eat meat slaughtered in such a manner.
Because only meat slaughtered according to the method called dhabihah was recognized as halal food.
‘It would not matter in an emergency, but this is not one.’
Strictly speaking, Burka, who had committed such merciless slaughter, could also be a problem, but he possessed enough power that not a single hair on his head would be harmed by an issue of this degree.
Most of the residents were Christian and had no qualms about eating it, so it was perfect for showmanship.
Şemsi, who had followed Yusuf into the office, opened his mouth.
“You did well.”
“Hardly. We simply exchanged blows, that is all.”
Burka had barely maintained his faction by having Trabzon included in the policy’s scope, and Yusuf had chipped away at his opponent’s wealth and gained the goodwill of the castle’s residents as a bonus.
That was the gist of it.
“That is enough. Time is not on their side. He may have used his head to maintain his faction, but that is limited to Trabzon.”
The more those receiving support showed favor to Yusuf, the less the other sobashis could arbitrarily side with Burka.
Burka would also strive to avoid isolation, but it would not be easy.
“So please do not be impatient.”
“I have no intention of rashly touching the inheritance issue just because I am hurrying for no reason.”
It was the kind of issue where someone might lose their mind and come calling in the dead of night.
“First, you must select those with high loyalty from among those receiving support and form a royal guard. Your current escort is insufficient.”
“Indeed, that is true.”
He had the Circassian Five as his personal guard and defensive troops stationed throughout the castle, but the former lacked numbers, and the latter lacked trustworthiness.
He needed to arrange at least fifty royal guards stationed in the castle to feel secure.
It was a matter for later, but once the has was normalized, he would have to raise a cavalry force of twenty men according to Ottoman law.
“For now, both Burka and I need to catch our breath.”
“And unlike this policy, you must not announce the inheritance issue openly.”
“I intend to start with rumors first.”
The inheritance of land held by Sipahis differed depending on whether they died in battle or of natural causes.
If a person holding land yielding twenty thousand akçe in annual profit died in battle, lands yielding six thousand, five thousand, and four thousand akçe would be inherited by three sons.
In the case of natural death, lands yielding five thousand and four thousand akçe would be inherited by two sons.
The fact that no matter how many sons there were, inheritance was limited to a maximum of three was something that could be exploited.
‘If it were before the rumors spread, they would resign themselves saying it cannot be helped, but if an opportunity to inherit comes along, the story is different.’
Inheritance fights would break out, and people would emerge desperately trying to look good to him.
Once the situation became like that, no matter how proud a Sipahi was, he would have no choice but to bow his head.
Because that was the only way to stop the infighting breaking out in their households.
“Still, I wish things would be settled before the year is out.”
There were about four months left in the year, so it was not ample time.
‘It has been about three months since I became Yusuf, so it is not a short time.’
This damned world truly gave him not a single moment to let his guard down.
Still, if he succeeded in internal consolidation, he could at least live with his legs stretched out comfortably for two years.
‘The problem is that after that, I will have to fight tooth and nail with Ismail.’
If he did not want his hair torn out by Ismail, who was riding high on momentum, he had to build a force to resist together.
Typically, a sanjak had Sipahis numbering one to three thousand, but the Trabzon sanjak had about two thousand five hundred.
However, he could not deploy all of them to war; ten percent had to remain behind to collect taxes.
‘Even over two thousand is an enormous army, but it is woefully insufficient compared to the number of soldiers led by Ismail.’
In 1500, the number of troops led by Ismail, who was fourteen years old, was seven thousand.
After the Safavid dynasty began in 1501, the numbers would swell further, so two thousand or so soldiers would obviously board the train to Allah in an instant.
Naturally, he had to draw in forces to resist together, and thinking about that, two years was only enough to keep his life out of danger; he had to move at a breathless pace.
It was not for nothing that he said he needed to finish it within this year.
“Only Allah knows the future, so I cannot be certain, but I shall try.”
“I shall trust in you, Pasha.”
No matter how much Burka struggled, internal consolidation was only a matter of time.
∗ ∗ ∗
As Yusuf and Burka entered a breather period, the ominous atmosphere that had enveloped Trabzon quickly subsided.
With the power struggle among the authorities over, attention returned to barley tea, and they began earnestly distributing barley tea to children at the free meal center.
It had only been a month since the shop was completed, but it was enough to spread by word of mouth.
“Did you hear? They said Lea’s baby has been terribly sick lately.”
“I heard. Selene’s child, the one who died a few years ago, went the same way, didn’t they?”
“Just in case, she asked for some of the barley water, saying she’d feed it to the child, and gave it to them for about two weeks. Apparently, the baby got all better.”
“Really?!”
“I’m telling you, it’s true. That’s why parents with sick children have been flocking to the free kitchen these days.”
Water steeped with barley was not a cure, but it did help recovery more than drinking contaminated water.
As word spread that it had worked, the shop was packed with parents with children whenever it opened.
Five specially made enormous cauldrons billowed hot steam, and the barley tea, once it had steeped enough, was ladled out and cooled in wooden tubs.
Once it had cooled enough to be carried away, it was sold to those waiting.
In the bustling shop, Ayshe was hurrying about, drenched in sweat.
“What’s got you smiling like that?”
“You’ve come, Your Highness?”
Even at his curt words, Ayshe greeted him with a bright smile, and Yusuf took her outside the shop, away from the sweltering heat.
“I didn’t send you here to run around working yourself to the bone.”
“It is a task entrusted to me by Your Highness. I cannot neglect it.”
“At a glance, it looks like the place runs just fine without you.”
The work involved using hot fires, so it was dangerous, but the task itself was not difficult enough to cause any real problems.
The worst issue would be embezzlement, and since it was not a business that made much profit, there was not much money to steal.
Not that anyone would likely have the nerve to do such a thing in a shop owned by a prince.
“Did Your Highness not say so? That we must continue increasing the number of shops.”
“I did say that.”
With just one shop, they could not even properly cover Trabzon, where nearly ten thousand people lived, and considering other cities as well, this was effectively a franchise business.
For now, they were in the process of building up a kind of know-how.
“Only if I take part myself can I see what sort of problems may arise, can I not?”
“…Even if I try to stop you, you have no intention of listening, do you? Don’t forget I paid a high price for you. If you get hurt, I’ll throw you out.”
At Yusuf’s threat, Ayshe smiled radiantly.
“I say this every time, but if the slave trader heard those words, he would weep tears of blood.”
“That’s what he gets for failing to train a slave properly.”
“I will be careful, as Your Highness says.”
After giving him that assurance, Ayshe continued as though she had just remembered something.
“Come to think of it, Lady Fatima asked what it was that Your Highness drinks every day.”
“…And?”
He felt an inexplicable chill, and that feeling proved exactly right.
“When I told her it was water boiled with barley roasted black enough to be nearly burnt, she said, why would you drink such a thing, and that she would have it removed.”
…Mother?
The sole source of vitality in his life was in danger of being seized.
∗ ∗ ∗
Time flowed by like the wind.
The dry, hot summer passed, and the season of cool weather and frequent rain arrived.
It was the season when farmers busied themselves sowing winter wheat.
For several months, the uncomfortable coexistence of the two powers had continued, and no one believed this peace would last long.
The clumsily woven peace had finally reached its end, and Yusuf drew the blade he had been holding back.
The rumor that the prince was interfering in sipahi inheritances spread rapidly throughout the Sanjak of Trabzon.
The sort of brotherly affection one might expect to see in the Ottoman imperial family began to creep forth.
∗ ∗ ∗
No one knew where it had begun or on what basis it had spread, but the story that the prince was meddling in inheritances spread so quickly that there was no time to take measures against it.
In an era when rumors spread by word of mouth, the fact that nearly everyone who mattered knew the news in just a week spoke for itself.
It was spreading too quickly to dismiss as idle gossip.
As if someone’s hand were behind it.
“Your Highness, the sipahis have requested an audience.”
“Tell them I’m ill.”
At eleven years old, he was at just the right age to be sick.
Whether the guards had delivered the message, it grew somewhat noisy outside, but Yusuf paid it no mind at all.
Sitting on his bed, Yusuf drank the liquid in his bowl and grimaced.
“Damn it, it tastes like coffee milk.”
Rescuing orzo, his substitute coffee, from Fatima’s hands had not been easy.
She had left matters of policy entirely to Yusuf, but anything related to his health was another matter.
Its pitch-black color and the bitterness that lingered in the mouth made it no different from junk food to Fatima, who had never drunk a single cup of coffee in her life.
To gain permission, he had to target Fatima’s palate, and only after mixing it with milk to make it taste like coffee milk did she grant her approval.
Only for this coffee-milk flavor.
“How sorrowful. Truly sorrowful. Coffee milk with no caffeine and barely a speck of aroma.”
If he could have his way, he wanted to import the coffee currently in fashion in Mecca through merchants himself.
Of course, if that happened to become a butterfly effect and coffee grew popular in the Ottoman Empire, it would only strengthen the Mamluks’ source of funds, so he had to stop at imagining it.
It seemed unlikely, but it was always the unlikely things that caught people by the throat.
There was an immense disconnect between the outside, growing ever more raucous, and Yusuf, leisurely enjoying teatime.
As Yusuf held out by pretending to be sick, the door to his room opened, and Shemsi entered with a calm expression.
“How is it outside?”
“Is there any need to say? The sipahis trying to get in and the guards stopping them are tangled together.”
“Still, it seems none of them are bold enough to draw weapons inside the castle.”
A pity. If there had been some hothead like that, punishing him as an example would have been perfect.
“If the newly recruited guards are doing their job, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“They are men who have no need to watch their step here, after all.”
As planned, they had selected fifty men from among those who had received economic support and formed a royal guard.
Since all of them had come from other cities, they had little personal connection with the sipahis of Trabzon crowding outside, and they had no hesitation in blocking them.
If those men had not been there, the sipahis would probably have already stormed right up to his nose, snarling and barking.
“By now, they must know for certain. That it isn’t some baseless rumor.”
He could simply have dismissed it by saying no such thing was happening, but instead he had shut himself away under the excuse of illness, so there was no way they would fail to understand.
That the dagger of the prince, who had stayed quiet for months, was now right under their chins.
“How do you think Burka will move next?”
“He will attempt to coordinate with the sipahis of other cities and push back.”
“That won’t go well.”
Sipahis who earned less than three thousand akçe a year made up forty percent of the whole.
They were men without economic means, and most of them had received at least a small amount of support.
That was how deeply and broadly this policy had penetrated sipahi society, to the point where the other subashis would not dare take Burka’s side.
“Then shall we toss a bundle of firewood to Burka, who must be utterly out of his wits by now?”
“As you wish.”
A mischievous smile tugged at Yusuf’s lips.
It was time to give substance to a rumor that had no body.
∗ ∗ ∗
“Why! Why are you refusing to issue the permit?!”
“As I said, did I not? His Highness said these documents were approved before he arrived, so they must be checked once more.”
At the official’s answer, the face of the man protesting turned bright red.
The Ottomans were always wary of people who would be of no real help while merely eating up tax revenues, and they were especially strict in managing the inheritance of timars, which served as salaries.
When an owner died, the sanjakbey sent a list of candidates to inherit the timar to the capital, and only after approval came down from the council in the capital did the sanjakbey issue the permit.
Only after the heir who received this permit went to the capital and obtained authorization once again from the land office could he become the true owner.
Being told that such an important permit would not be issued was enough to make his insides turn over.
“Approval has already come down from the capital, so what more is there to check?!”
“Hm, that is His Highness’s will, so I cannot know.”
“Then I will meet him myself and speak to him directly.”
“You cannot. His Highness is ill at the moment.”
Because he had made such a loud fuss, word that an heir had been held back because of the prince spread in no time.
It was the moment reality was added to what had merely been a drifting rumor.
Even this was enough to deliver a great shock to the sipahis, but Yusuf’s playing with fire had only just begun.
No one knew when a person might die.
Even in the modern era, where medicine had advanced to a degree embarrassing to compare with this age, sudden deaths were always possible.
What brought attention to an otherwise ordinary matter was the reply to a list of candidates sent to the sanjakbey.
-The first and second sons submitted as candidates have disqualifying grounds. Recommend new candidates.
Normally, unless one had committed a serious crime or was incapable of serving as a cavalryman, such matters passed through, but this was flatly blocked.
The greater problem with this official letter was that it effectively meant the two remaining sons were to be submitted on the list, but the fourth son was only fourteen years old.
He was not of an age to be used as reserve manpower, and this was pointed out, but.
-According to the law, in the case of an heir under sixteen, there is no issue so long as a person is designated to go to war in his stead.
That was the answer that came back.
It was certainly a law that existed, but it was a law applied only when there was no adult heir.
Requests continued to come in, asking that they at least be told the reason plainly, and Yusuf gave a faint laugh at the story.
“Originally, even in interviews, they don’t tell you why you failed. But since they’re so curious, I suppose I should be generous just this once.”
The answer Yusuf personally wrote and sent back made countless people’s minds go blank.
-It has been revealed that those two have habitually gone about making disloyal remarks regarding the ruler of Trabzon, and thus they are hereby notified that they may not inherit. This is because such conduct runs counter to the spirit of the sipahi, who must obey orders.
The wording was lofty, but put simply, it meant, “Yes, I’ll only give permission to someone who listens well.”
It was spiteful obstruction of the highest order, but there was nothing wrong in it to object to.
It was a move that left the back of their heads stinging, and for the older sipahis, fire had fallen at their feet.
“Could it happen to me too…?”
Because sons who harbored such thoughts began to spring up.
He fanned the ambitions of those who had been excluded from the line of succession for various reasons—whether for being too young or for failing to receive their father’s favor—and the beginning was denunciations.
“The sons of Talip—Ersin, Serya, and Firat—regularly speak ill of Prince Yusuf.”
With the reply that this denunciation would be investigated, the trigger was pulled on a full-blown succession battle.
Starting with denunciations and rumors, it escalated into outright competition of loyalty, openly singing Yusuf’s praises.
Naturally, the Sipahis tried to resolve the situation, but the sons, already blinded by greed, could not be properly controlled.
“Anyway, when father dies, it is the Prince who decides the successor.”
“Even a dog knows who feeds it. At least it is not the one father feeds.”
With such words floating around openly, there was no way they could be controlled.
It was not uncommon for the sons to come to the brink of drawing blades on one another.
Yusuf, the architect of this entire situation, shook his head.
“It’s a complete mess. Isn’t it?”
Ayşe, who had returned to Yusuf’s side in case of trouble as the atmosphere grew increasingly hostile, answered.
“Is this not proceeding according to Your Highness’s plan?”
At this question, Yusuf shrugged.
“I thought they’d dispose of anyone in their way as cleanly as our own brothers do. These brothers lack fraternal affection.”
“What exactly is fraternal affection to Your Highness?”
That was quite a difficult question. Still, to answer simply:
“Hmm, a hot emotion.”
So hot that you could throw the other into a furnace without hesitation at any moment?
To be honest, the Sipahis ought to be grateful that it was partible inheritance, with multiple heirs inheriting. At least they would not fight until only one remained.
Indeed, if every inheritance were a survival game, that would be hell, not a nation.
“Anyway, compared to the imperial family’s brand of brotherly affection, this is a mild taste. Isn’t it?”
He had specifically unleashed the poison known as Ottoman imperial brotherhood; this level of chaos was quite tame by comparison.
Having come this far, it was about time to clear away a few corpses.
While he was thinking this, a knock came at the office, and Shemsi entered with a grave expression.
“Pasha, what is the matter?”
“They say there was a blade fight over the succession. Two of the brothers are dead, and one was gravely injured, so Sinan has been dispatched.”
Speak of the devil.
The imperial family’s fiery nature had rubbed off on them.
“What will you do?”
“As planned before, I must handle it according to the law.”
For brothers to plunge knives into each other’s necks was only possible because they were imperial princes; murder, however, was a grave crime under Islamic law, Sharia.
“And announce that killings among family members carry even heavier punishment.”
It was amusing enough to watch rats play with fire in another’s house, but they had to play within the established rules.
When losing even one man who could fight was a bitter blow, murder was not a good thing.
Of course, one could argue that the man who had ground the household into bean powder had no business saying such things.
‘Having them cut ties with their families is actually to my advantage.’
Because he planned to gather such men and organize a separate royal guard unit.
To those who could not return to their families, the royal guard would become home and family, and they would offer their loyalty to the one who had provided it.
Furthermore, if such tragedies repeated, radical sentiment could well turn against him, the architect of this situation.
It was time to tighten the leash.
He had already anticipated such an event and established a course of action with Shemsi in advance. The question he had just asked was simply for confirmation.
“Then I shall proceed accordingly.”
Making an example and issuing a warning would keep them from resorting to murder, so this much was sufficient; Yusuf’s interest turned elsewhere.
“More importantly, what of Burka’s movements?”
“He seems busy tightening internal discipline. Many have already shown signs of breaking away.”
With his household turned upside down, it was no easy task to remain loyal to Burka.
Yusuf was the only one who could settle the succession issue, so defections were only natural.
“How old is Burka?”
“I understand he is around fifty.”
“Burka is indeed reaching the age to retire.”
Yusuf smiled.
“Why don’t we check just how harmonious Burka’s household really is? Spread a rumor. Say that Cahit, the eldest son whom Burka dotes on, will never inherit.”
“Understood.”
I wonder how it will turn out.
It was now time to wrap up the internal crackdown.
∗ ∗ ∗
“Your Highness!!”
Burka, his breath ragged and smeared all over with blood that had yet to dry, left a bloody trail with every step.
Approaching with a horribly twisted face and bloodshot eyes, a far cry from his usual imposing demeanor, Burka knelt on one knee.
“…I have brought the head of the traitor.”
From the cloth soaked crimson emerged the head of a young man.
It was Cahit, Burka’s son.
∗ ∗ ∗
There was something Yusuf had vowed after first gambling with his life. It was a vow to never again entrust his life to the whims of fortune.
To accomplish this, two things were needed: martial force and information.
For a start, personal combat ability was out of the question. Setting aside talent, a mere child could hardly be expected to protect himself.
In the end, a group to protect him was necessary, and having established a fifty-man royal guard, his life was in danger only under the most extreme circumstances.
‘The real problem was intelligence.’
Intelligence capability was not something achieved overnight.
Just look at the Beggars’ Sect and Hao Gate that appear so tiresomely in murim fiction—they required an enormous human network, did they not?
‘Even if manpower could be solved with money, there was no proper method to obtain information.’
However important information might be, a prince could not very well raise beggars or operate taverns.
The answer to his worries was closer than he thought.
As more people came to buy barley tea, crowds gathered around the shop, making it a natural hub for all manner of rumors.
‘Honestly, it was an unexpected source of side income, so I was rather lucky.’
He had never dreamed that barley tea would succeed so quickly, and it would have been difficult to imagine such a use beforehand.
At any rate, over the span of several months, barley tea shops spread throughout Trabzon, and an intelligence organization centered on them began operating in earnest.
It was still early days, lacking in many ways, but within Trabzon, most information of any significance came through.
Yusuf looked down at Cahit’s head, his eyes wide with the shock of his final moment.
‘Thanks to that, I knew they were preparing something suspicious.’
Those displeased with the succession had gathered around Cahit, and Yusuf had been collecting his own evidence and watching them.
For it was a noose meant for Burka’s neck.
But he had never dreamed he would see that noose take such a form.
Yusuf asked, his face stiff.
“Burka Subashi, you understand the meaning of that statement, do you not?”
“…Of course.”
Burka’s face, having personally cut off his own son’s head, looked a decade older in that short span.
Yusuf lifted his head and looked around.
Perhaps because Burka had walked here drenched in blood, a large crowd had gathered, including many Sipahis.
‘If it were an assassination of a prince, Burka as the father would also be subject to punishment.’
Could he punish him in this atmosphere?
It had stopped at conspiracy rather than actual assassination, and the son, the principal offender, had already been directly punished.
It was legally ambiguous to mete out punishment, and were he to speak of executing Burka, the atmosphere would turn vicious.
‘Must I let him off the hook yet again?’
To think he would kill his own son to carve out a path of survival—as expected, he was a ruthless and formidable opponent.
Just as Yusuf was worrying over how to deal with Burka, an utterly unforeseen statement reached his ears.
“I shall atone for my son’s crime with my life.”
For a moment, he thought he had misheard.
As if he were not the only one who thought so, a commotion erupted nearby.
“Silence!!”
At the ferocious bark, silence descended once more. Yusuf locked eyes with Burka, who looked up at him, and asked.
“Are you in earnest?”
“Of course.”
He suspected it might be groundwork for another scheme, but there was no deceit in that calm voice.
Though the opponent he had so dearly wished to capture had voluntarily offered his neck, Yusuf felt no pleasure.
And so the words that followed were impulsive.
“I shall bury everything that has happened until now; how about offering your loyalty to me?”
He knew. He knew just how foolish a choice this statement was.
There was no telling how trustworthy the loyalty of one who had lost his son could be, and missing this opportunity would make catching Burka even harder.
Rationally, he knew Burka had to die.
‘It’s a waste to simply kill him.’
His resilience, which did not easily waver in any crisis; his command, which held his subordinates bound; his cunning, which swiftly navigated every danger. He wanted to claim him even at the risk.
At Yusuf’s question, Burka bore a faint smile.
It was the first smile he had ever shown, but the words that followed were not the answer Yusuf wanted.
“If it were Prince Selim, he would never have shown such dangerous mercy.”
“…Is this a refusal?”
“Your Highness.”
Burka, having called out to Yusuf briefly, carefully brushed his son’s head, placed beside him, with a complicated gaze.
“Mercy is not always accounted a virtue for one who stands above others. You have become the victor; now is the time to sever the enemy commander’s head and stand firm.”
It did not feel at all like words spoken by a man staking his own life.
At Burka’s words, a thought suddenly occurred to Yusuf.
‘So that was it.’
Objectively speaking, no matter how outstanding a figure Burka was, he could not hold Yusuf down forever.
Burka, outmatched by Yusuf in both justification and status, was simply fighting a losing battle; his end was a foregone conclusion.
A man of Burka’s stature could hardly be unaware of that, and there was only one conclusion to expect.
“Was he truly a master worthy of such devotion? I speak of my elder brother, Selim.”
At Yusuf’s question, Burka opened his eyes slightly wider and spoke in a voice tinged with self-mockery.
“Now that it’s come to this, I honestly don’t know. Even so, in my eyes, you seemed like someone who would rise higher than anyone else.”
Well, since he really had become sultan, one could say his eye for people had been accurate.
Hearing Selim’s assessment made Yusuf suddenly curious.
“Then how do I look?”
“…Had you been born ten years earlier, you would have become the master of the empire.”
Ten years.
Was that all the difference there was? Yusuf gave a faint laugh and let go of his lingering attachment to Burka.
For forcing him to remain any longer would be something one should not do to an enemy who deserved to meet his end with honor.
“Is there anything you wish to ask of me before the end?”
“…If possible, I would like my last moment to be entrusted to my subordinate, Arda.”
“Lord Burka!!!”
Arda, Burka’s right-hand man, shouted loudly.
As Arda shook his head as though he could not possibly do it, a stern voice rang out toward him.
“Arda, did you not say it yourself? That you would be by my side at my end. It is time to keep your promise.”
At Burka’s words, Arda approached with a face twisted in anguish.
It was not as though he did not understand what it meant.
It meant that he was to sever their bond with his own hands by killing him, and it was also a request to Yusuf to accept them now.
Because he understood that feeling, it was all the harder for him to move easily.
To Arda, who stood hesitating with his sword raised, Burka said,
“Cahit must be waiting for me. I will go on ahead, so you remain by the prince’s side and see his end through.”
“…Thank you for everything until now.”
Arda’s thrusting sword pierced through his heart and emerged from his back, and upon the floor staining red, Burka slowly laid himself down.
He was a man who, to the very end, had called him not sanjakbey, but prince.
Yusuf, who had silently watched Burka die with a serene smile still on his face, shouted loudly.
“I will give an order!!”
At Yusuf’s shout, those who had witnessed Burka’s final moments knelt on one knee.
Drenched in Burka’s blood, Arda bowed his head and replied.
“Give your command.”
“From now on, all matters of the past will be left unquestioned! From this point onward, I will not tolerate any act of unrest! And.”
Yusuf looked down at the father and son.
“See to it that Burka Subashi and his son Cahit are buried in a good place.”
“We obey your command!!”
Their voices rang out as one, covering the castle.
It was the end of the long internal purge.
∗ ∗ ∗
The year 1499, which had driven Trabzon into terrible chaos, passed, and a new year began.
At Yusuf’s summons, the qadis and subashis from the thirteen kazas gathered.
As they assembled once more in the very banquet hall where they had first met Yusuf, unlike at the beginning, none of them could open their mouths carelessly.
In less than half a year, the master of the Sanjak of Trabzon had made it known to all that he was no mere child of only eleven years.
With a support policy no one had imagined, he had won the hearts of the sipahis, and by boldly reaching into matters of inheritance, he had seized them by the throat.
His methods were clever, and his momentum was domineering.
Now, no one could think of him as merely a young prince.
The doors of the banquet hall, wrapped in heavy silence, opened, and Yusuf entered, having grown both physically and mentally over the past half year.
Seeing Yusuf, who, though still faintly, naturally exuded the air of a ruler, the thirteen qadis and thirteen subashis bowed their heads toward him.
“We greet the Sanjakbey.”
With confident steps, Yusuf walked between those bowing their heads and ascended to the seat of honor, then slowly looked around the banquet hall.
Aside from Arda standing in Burka’s place, no one had changed.
They were the same people, in the same arrangement, but their attitude was as different as heaven and earth.
No one questioned his rule.
“All of you, raise your heads.”
At those words, they all raised their heads at once, and Yusuf welcomed them.
“It is good to see you all again like this. I look forward to working with you from now on.”
“We will serve you faithfully.”
Along with their reply, a translucent window appeared.
[Undisputed Sanjakbey of Trabzon, Points +5]
Receiving even points made it feel real.
That he had become the firm master of this place.
‘As a bonus, I have enough points to take my second trait, too.’
At last, he was able to set his sights a little farther.
∗ ∗ ∗
“Burka is dead? That Burka?”
Selim frowned as he read the letter sent by his spy.
Burka, whom he had watched for a long time, was not a man who would make a clumsy mistake, and he was even less the sort of person to be pushed aside in such a short time.
If this result was due to the ability of his young brother….
“As I thought, should I have killed him back then, even if I had to force it?”
Even if he did not kill him, he had thought that with Burka remaining there, he would at least hold him back for more than five years.
Now that things had turned out this way, regret welled up in him.
“Since Burka is dead, it is too late to regret it.”
With the stumbling block gone, he must have fully gained control of the sanjak.
There was no one else who offered him loyalty like the dead Burka, and there was no way to attempt an assassination.
If Burka had at least kept his life, he could have tried using him.
“Foolish bastard, choosing death.”
Though he had offered up the life of his beloved son and his own for the sake of his remaining family and subordinates, Selim judged him merely foolish.
For a failure who could not even properly manage the simple task of holding someone back, that was the full extent of the emotion left for him.
Selim crumpled the letter, which was filled with an earnest account of how hard Burka had struggled and how he had met death at the end of his loyalty, and drummed his fingers on the table.
“In any case, there is no need to concern myself with my young brother. Stuck there at the end of the world, all he can do is wait for the day he dies.”
He knew that fact better than anyone.
Even excluding his young brother, there were six more brothers competing with him.
Once he ascended to the sultan’s seat, he could kill him as much as he pleased, so what mattered was overcoming the remaining six.
Compared to his time in Trabzon, he had come much closer to the capital, but compared to his other brothers, he was still far away.
There was only one way to overcome that difference.
“I need support… As expected, is the Crimean Khanate the only option?”
When he had been in Trabzon, where his chances of succession were slim, it had been impossible, but now that he had escaped it, it was worth attempting.
History had begun to twist.