I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

The shackles have been lifted (1)

Cutting off the neck of an envoy, who is a kind of special envoy, is equivalent to declaring war.

Yet, Yusuf boldly went through with it.

‘He must have known that the envoy could die.’

Planning an assassination and hoping for a safe return is indeed a ridiculous notion.

At least he spared the person who was to convey the results of the negotiations, so you could say he showed some restraint.

As Yusuf expected, the Safavid agreed to the conditions without question.

‘First, fifteen thousand ducats in Venetian gold.’

Other princes had been active as Sanjakbey for at least twenty years before Yusuf, and their accumulated capital was different.

This amount of gold could close the gap to a degree.

Considering that the annual income of wealthy Venice was around four million ducats, this was a significant loss for the newly established Safavid.

“It’s not just about the gold; the non-aggression treaty is important.”

The non-aggression zone encompasses the area around Trabzon, including Georgia.

Especially Georgia, which is sending taxes to Yusuf, is a place where Ismail could invade at any moment.

At Yusuf’s words, Seomsin warned him.

“Don’t forget that a non-aggression treaty can turn into mere scraps of paper at any time.”

“I have no intention of blind faith in this treaty either.”

Even if you form an alliance, you never know when you might get stabbed in the back; a non-aggression treaty can be overturned just as easily.

Yusuf wasn’t so naive as to not understand that.

“There’s no need for even the promised five years. If peace continues until the succession battle begins, it would leave no justification for refusing military support.”

While close-knit Samtskhe might understand, other states in Georgia could easily refuse military support using the Safavid as an excuse.

The non-aggression treaty would help make such excuses look flimsy.

“The Safavid might attack while we send troops.”

“That would indeed be unfortunate. I must take revenge once I ascend to the Padishah position.”

If a Georgian had heard this, they would have been furious, but Yusuf stood up with a sly smile.

“It’s about time to set off.”

Both Yusuf and Ismail shared a lack of trust in each other, and the meeting place was set to be Erzinjan and Bayburt.

Two thousand cavalry were set to move in preparation for a possible ambush, but Yusuf didn’t need to take the risk of going along.

Yusuf visited Tazlu’s room to say goodbye, and she quietly sat waiting for the time to leave.

“Did you come just to say goodbye?”

“Yes, I’m curious how you feel about returning.”

Tazlu’s heart had turned cold due to recent events, and she sneered.

“What kind of answer do you want with that question? I’m really happy to be able to return.”

“That’s an excellent answer. When you meet Ismail, make sure to shed tears of joy.”

Tazlu let out a chuckle of disbelief.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Just then, a knock sounded, indicating that preparations to leave were complete, and Tazlu gently rose from her seat.

The root cause of all these troubles was Yusuf, who had taken her captive, yet in the end, she was joining hands with him.

What an ironic situation, Tazlu thought as she passed by Yusuf.

“I suppose I won’t meet you again.”

Had it not been for the absurd misfortune that left her with no choice but to blame Allah, she would have lived her life without encountering Yusuf again.

Realizing this, Yusuf shrugged off her words.

“We could meet again. If I were to conquer Tabriz, that is.”

If he were to conquer Tabriz, the Safavid’s capital, they might cross paths again because that’s where Ismail’s harem is located.

Tazlu burst out laughing.

“A person who might die at any moment has great ambitions. First, survive and become the master of the Ottomans.”

“You speak the obvious.”

After pausing momentarily, Tazlu opened the door and said,

“I’ll watch from afar to see if you can survive.”

With these words, Tazlu left, and shortly after, boxes of gold and a letter containing the non-aggression treaty arrived in Trabzon.

*

The letter in Ismail’s hand was akin to a receipt.

Whether it was the work of Satan or the whims of Allah didn’t matter; it was the characteristic receipt generated by a single misfortune.

Ismail chuckled softly.

“Mohammad, have you ever held a woman worth fifteen thousand gold coins? I believe I will soon.”

“Wasn’t she the Shah’s woman before that?”

“She had no price back then.”

That sounded strangely significant.

It could be interpreted as she had gained a price where there was none before, but it also suggested she had become a precious woman beyond value.

“Are you considering abandoning her?”

She was the woman whom Ismail loved most, yet he thought it possible.

She had been kidnapped and held captive for several months. It was enough to question her purity.

“If I were to consider that, I could have easily killed her through the envoy sent for negotiations without spending a fortune.”

“Do you not doubt her purity?”

“I do not.”

At Ismail’s firm words, Mohammad looked surprised, and Ismail explained his reasoning.

“Prince Yusuf swore by Allah that she is pure.”

A look of slight bewilderment crossed Mohammad’s face.

This indicated a belief in the words of a kidnapper. However, Ismail had reasons for his faith.

“He is a man chosen by Allah. He wouldn’t carelessly invoke Allah’s name.”

It was a ridiculous statement for Yusuf, who believed more in luck than Allah, and could sell out Allah thousands of times if needed.

Unaware of this, Ismail set the letter aside and switched topics.

“There’s no time to waste on matters that are already settled. There are urgent issues at hand.”

Winter passed, and spring arrived.

Soldiers summoned in winter began to gather rapidly, and their numbers grew day by day.

The numbers exceeded his own army already stationed in Elbistan, yet Ismail remained calm.

“How many enemies have gathered so far?”

“Just in Central Anatolia, including Ankara, there are over thirty thousand enemies, and troops from Oman have already departed from their capital.”

The Balkan Peninsula and Anatolia, including the capital Constantinople, were separated by the sea.

The strait blocking the two was called the Bosphorus, and without crossing it, one would have to go around the vast Black Sea.

This took a significant amount of time, and during a march, small boats are used to create a makeshift bridge.

By the time the news of departure reached Elbistan, the Oman forces would have already crossed the strait.

“Over a hundred thousand, I’d say.”

It’s not a ragtag bunch; most are cavalry forming a great army.

Even Ismail, who was convinced of being chosen by Allah, felt daunted by the disparity in strength.

Ismail, who knew how to distinguish between courage and recklessness, had no intention of fighting.

“Nur Ali has already completed preparations, has he?”

“Yes, they say they can devastate in a month.”

The scorched earth strategy, which involves burning everything rather than handing it over to the enemy, is quite effective but comes with serious drawbacks.

Since it burns all farmland, the aftereffects are severe, and the backlash from the populace is substantial. It takes plenty of time to see results.

Ironically, most of these drawbacks were alleviated due to Yusuf’s raids.

The areas surrounding Diyarbakır, most dangerous during the war with the Ottomans, had already been devastated.

“Still, it’s best if the war doesn’t happen.”

He planned to flee from Elbistan to Diyarbakır before the enemy’s gathering was complete.

“Mahmud, bring me a letter and a pen.”

If the enemy pursued and followed him to Diyarbakır, he would face great losses, so he intended to leave a letter directed to Bayezid.

Ismail picked up the pen.

*

After a few years since leaving Venice, Bayezid felt his body changing day by day.

The march that lasted twenty days, though it was comfortable, was not easy.

Already over one hundred thousand soldiers had gathered in Central Anatolia, with countless tents pitching across the plains.

Once Bayezid arrived in Ankara, one of Anatolia’s key cities, the Sanjakbey of Ankara paid his respects.

“Dukakinzade Ahmed Pasha greets the great Padishah.”

“It’s been a long time.”

Having just become a Sanjakbey after meeting with Yusuf in the capital, Ahmed mistakenly believed it was due to Yusuf’s help.

Bayezid received his warm welcome with a benevolent smile, and Ahmed quietly pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.

“What is it?”

“It is a letter sent by the enemy commander Ismail not long ago.”

Upon hearing this, Bayezid unfolded the letter.

Written in the pseudonym Katay, denoting someone who has made a mistake, it was in a fluent script reflecting a significant figure who left behind 1400 verses, greatly influencing Persian and Azerbaijani literature.

The letter beginning with “Glorious Bayezid” praised the Sultan while also reflecting on his own mistakes, but it wasn’t servile.

Regardless, the content of the letter conveyed a lack of intent to fight against the Ottomans, and Bayezid circulated it among his subordinates.

“What do you think?”

The first to respond to Bayezid’s question were the Janissary commanders.

“It’s just sweet talk. We can’t forgive them with just a letter.”

“If we miss this opportunity, they will certainly invade again, disregarding the empire.”

They argued for immediate punishment, and Bayezid showed a slight discomfort, which was noticed by Grand Vizier Ali Pasha.

“If the letter’s contents are true, the enemy must have already retreated. So, do you plan to invade the Safavid?”

“Of course.”

“I oppose that. There are also Turkmen rebels lurking, and we are not properly prepared for supplies for an expedition.”

The Grand Vizier spoke decisively, and it wasn’t long before a heated argument broke out between the military and bureaucrats.

As the shouting continued, Bayezid slammed his fist on the table.

“Who dares cause a ruckus in my presence?”

Silence fell in the wake of Bayezid’s fierce rebuke.

“Yakup Agha.”

Agha is a title denoting a high commander, and Yakup Agha was the chief commander of the Janissaries who stood before Bayezid.

Yakup respectfully showed his respect.

“Speak.”

“What do you think?”

“I believe arguing among ourselves is pointless. Do as the Padishah wishes.”

At Yakup’s words, Bayezid stroked his long beard thoughtfully.

Though he still seemed fit, he couldn’t be sure if his frail body could endure a long expedition.

He could die on the journey.

Yet, sending the army away seemed risky given the internal situation.

‘When the inside is chaotic, I can’t dispatch a large army.’

This wasn’t just about the Turkmen; he thought of the princes revealing their ambitions and realized he needed soldiers to protect himself.

In the end, the only viable decision for Bayezid:

“I will disband the army.”

*

As the summons were lifted and the army dispersed, Yusuf clicked his tongue.

‘If you’ve drawn your sword, you should have at least cut something.’

With a meaningless mobilization, the Sultan had diminished his own authority.

Although he couldn’t help but understand the choice, it couldn’t be regarded as a good one.

Mahmud was called a fool for the failed ambush, but in any case, the prince’s death was involved.

‘The killing of one’s own prince is a matter of pride.’

The relationship between the Sultan and the military grew more distant, and having given a call to mobilize once, it would be difficult to gather the large army for some time.

A power gap had emerged, and there was no longer a reason to fear the Sultan.

Yusuf’s eyes gleamed coldly.

“The shackles that bound the princes have been lifted.”