I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

The shackles were released (3)

Taking a deep breath of the metallic scent of blood, Şehinşah looked around.

Amidst the battered and brutally cut corpses, faint moans of nearing death could be heard.

Swaying slightly, Şehinşah dismounted from his horse and trampled the chest of an enemy who was only mouthing sounds.

Crack!

The one whose chest caved in soon dropped their head, and Şehinşah leaned against his horse.

“Your Highness, please stay still. You are bleeding profusely.”

As a subordinate took out bandages and wrapped them around, a wave of excruciating pain surged.

Taking out opium from his pocket and tossing it into his mouth, Şehinşah looked up at the sky, his mind growing hazier from anemia.

Gazing at the overcast sky that seemed ready to pour rain, Şehinşah muttered, “So this is war.”

Shouts and cries filled the air, crossing innumerable crises like walking a tightrope above a cliff.

Touching the scar on his face made by a grazing arrow, Şehinşah chuckled softly as someone approached him.

“What is so funny?”

“It’s Ishubat, isn’t it?”

At İsmail’s question about the Ishubat Bey, Şehinşah burst into laughter.

“Death, which I so feared, is this light.”

“Each person carries a different weight of death. Do not equate these with Your Highness.”

“Well, let’s say so. My dear brother, who should know the value of a prince’s life, has fled.”

The image of Korkut, shouting his name with a furious face, became vivid in his mind.

The figure he had found immensely frightening as a child now fleeing like a coward.

Feeling the approaching effects of the opiate, Şehinşah gently closed his eyes.

“I’ve made my decision, Ishubat.”

“Speak freely.”

“Tell Shakul, the date of execution is next spring.”

Laughing, Şehinşah cast off his shackles.

*

The boy, intently watching three small clocks with a serious expression, frowned slightly.

Although they had been made with the same parts, discrepancies had already arisen.

A sighing voice came from behind the boy, who was staring intensely at the clocks.

“Sir Şüleyman, are you at it again?”

“Ah, you’ve come, Yaya.”

Yaya sighed at Şüleyman, who dismissed his intellect as trivial.

Though still young to be pondering life, it was clear that bringing him into this was a monumental mistake.

“If Prince Selim finds out you’re involved in such matters, it won’t simply end with a scolding.”

“I know that, which is why I’m trying my best to hide it. And surely, you wouldn’t kill your only son, would you?”

“I’m the one in more danger than you, Şüleyman.”

Though he had met Selim when they were children, that imposing figure remained vivid in his memory.

Şüleyman smiled wryly at Yaya’s complaint laced with fear.

“I’ll do my best to protect your life, at least. Now, take a look at this.”

“What now?”

“According to what Prince Yusuf wrote, the periodicity of the additional weights hanging from the string had no relation to the weight of the pendulum. I’ve been rethinking how to apply this to the clock.”

After examining the blueprint for a while, Yaya shook his head.

“It won’t oscillate regularly this way.”

“Indeed, that’s true. It’s quite a difficult problem.”

Hearing the mention of failure again, Şüleyman wore a disappointed expression, but his eyes shone with ambition.

Yaya, well aware of the years of failure, returned the blueprint and said, “You should have met Prince Yusuf when he visited the capital last time. He might know the answer.”

“It’s not that simple to seek guidance from another prince. It could cause great trouble for my father.”

“Thank goodness you’re aware of that. I thought you were oblivious, acting like someone who’s about to be appointed as Sanjakbey.”

At Yaya’s sarcasm, Şüleyman merely laughed lightly.

Considering their status difference, it was quite rude, but given the trouble he had caused, it was a reasonable complaint.

Wiping the smile off his face, Şüleyman asked seriously.

“Yaya, would you not come with me to the Cape? I would trust you to join me.”

“…I appreciate the offer, but as I always say, we cannot be together.”

Yaya’s father, Ömer, was the Kadı of Trabzon, and Şüleyman’s father was Selim; they could never stand side by side.

Though it was a well-known truth, on this day, it hurt Şüleyman’s heart even more, and he spoke bluntly.

“Do you truly think Şehzade Yusuf will become the next Padishah?”

“Only Allah knows what the future holds, but I believe so. And this is not merely my own thought.”

Both knew well how Yusuf’s status had changed in less than a decade.

When he first arrived at the capital, most people didn’t even know his name, let alone his fame.

Those who did remember him only recalled the assassination attempt that had seemed like a miracle; nobody regarded him as a legitimate heir.

But now, his name was heard almost daily, especially among the youth who idolized him as a hero.

After a generational shift, Yusuf could naturally take control.

“I respect your view, but it will not be easy. Your father shall become the ruler of the Empire.”

“Your repeated habit of making such declarations, Murad.”

“Isn’t it similar? I should see that brat once before we leave.”

As Şüleyman mimicked Murad, Ahmed’s eldest son, Yaya’s expression hardened as he spoke.

“You might not see his face for some time. Unfortunate news just arrived in the capital.”

“What kind of news?”

“Şehinşah attacked Prince Korkut, who was moving to Saruhan. It is said that the majority of his troops were lost, forcing him to retreat to Ankara.”

It was news that could shake the Ottoman Empire.

*

Clang!

As the swords clashed, a shock ran through his hand, nearly numbing it.

Feeling his arm tremble, Yusuf thought he could bear it no longer and quickly lunged the sword into the visible gap.

He thought he had found the perfect opening, but the enemy’s sword drew nearer to his throat even faster.

Arda, who lifted his sword from Yusuf’s throat, nodded and said, “You’ve improved significantly. If this were before, you would be rolling in the dirt by now. Thanks to that, I’ve warmed up nicely.”

In response to Arda’s somewhat over-the-top compliment, Yusuf merely smiled.

“From my perspective, it looked like you just desperately didn’t want to lose.”

“…That was just unfortunate.”

It truly had been unfortunate.

Taking advantage of the moment sand had gotten into his eyes, Yusuf retaliated, and as he stumbled backward, he stepped on a piece of splintered shield and lost his balance slightly.

Had it ended there, it would have been acceptable, but he had hurriedly stepped into a slight depression, causing him to twist his foot and tumble into defeat.

He had won purely by chance, yet Yusuf grinned playfully.

“Luck is a form of skill.”

Patting Arda’s shoulder, who was merely groaning, Yusuf headed straight to the office.

It was because he had been informed that Şemsi was urgently looking for him.

Inside the office, Şemsi was already waiting, and as Yusuf entered, he saluted.

“You’ve arrived.”

“Pasha, you called for me urgently?”

“Indeed.”

As Yusuf sat at the head of the table, Şemsi immediately began his report.

“Five days ago, Prince Şehinşah ambushed Prince Korkut, who was moving toward Saruhan.”

“Not Selim, but Şehinşah?”

Yusuf said with a slightly shocked expression.

If Selim had ambushed Korkut, it wouldn’t have surprised him as much.

Even if Selim lacked motivation, he could stir up trouble to keep Ahmed in check.

“Indeed. It was unexpected to see someone who had been quiet suddenly take action, but when considering the routes, it was entirely possible.”

To reach Saruhan along the western coast of Anatolia, one had to traverse the plains between Ankara and Konya.

It wouldn’t have been strange if a battle had erupted at any moment.

‘Though it was surprising that he made the decision to do so.’

In fact, Yusuf had completely ruled out Şehinşah from consideration.

İsmail had just retreated, so he thought Şehinşah would remain more subdued with his help.

“What was the outcome of the battle?”

“Prince Korkut, leading fifteen hundred cavalry, seems to have fought valiantly against twice his number of enemies. The exact casualties are unclear, but it seems both sides suffered significant losses.”

That was largely the expected outcome.

With Korkut having five hundred heavy cavalry, he would have not easily been overrun by a numerical advantage.

“Still, in the end, it seems my brother Korkut was defeated.”

“Indeed. Most of his cavalry were killed, leaving only a handful alive. It is said that Prince Korkut, who retreated to Ankara, sustained serious injuries.”

“Serious injuries, huh?”

The fact that injured Korkut had entered Ankara after shaking off his pursuers meant that Şehinşah’s side had also paid a considerable price.

Hearing that they had inflicted losses upon each other was not bad news.

“The most important thing is that Korkut could not enter Saruhan.”

Regardless of his own wounds, he could not dare to covet Saruhan with just over a hundred cavalry.

“The problem lies in what happens next. How do you think the capital will react?”

“Some opinions will surely emerge regarding this incident.”

When Dulqadir occurred, the princes acted against the Sultan’s orders to raise forces.

However, it had been acceptable back then because the enemy had been clear; now, it was a form of civil war among the princes.

The capital would surely be thrown into chaos.

“How Korkut is judged for trying to lead his forces to seize Saruhan will depend on the circumstances.”

Korkut, who acted on his own against the Sultan’s authority, could be seen as a rebel.

Given the status of a prince, the Sultan was likely to overlook it, but in a general sense, he would have sent a punitive expedition.

“Şehinşah’s side will claim they punished Prince Korkut in place of the Padishah.”

“Those who follow Ahmed will criticize Şehinşah’s actions for attacking the same prince without permission.”

If they were to assign blame, Korkut, who had created this mess, bore more responsibility.

“What will you do?”

Yusuf paused for a moment to think.

His status had changed from struggling to build connections in the capital to being someone with many active supporters.

He could easily manipulate the public opinion within the capital, should he wish.

“For now, let’s wait and observe.”

“Then I’ll relay that.”

After all, pushing for severe punishment would likely not result in significant consequences.

“Pasha, the princes have finally collided directly with each other.”

This incident marked a sort of turning point.

Unlike in the past, when they would send out spies and strive to garner support, they now sought to lead armies to claim each other’s heads.

Full-scale civil war was on the horizon.

“I should send someone to the Circassians and Georgians to ensure we can request reinforcements at any time.”

This directive implied a move within the year, and Şemsi nodded seriously.

A battle that would determine the fates of the princes was about to commence.

As Şemsi organized in his mind all that needed to be done, Yusuf, who had been deep in thought, spoke up.

“And contact the Duke of Ahmed Pasha.”

As Sanjakbey of Ankara, he was Yusuf’s hidden card, unknown to anyone.

Korkut would have never guessed he was entering the tiger’s mouth for survival.

With a cold smile, Yusuf said, “It seems my brother will return home with worsened wounds.”

Korkut’s fate was sealed.