The Wanderer (29 page)

Giulia flushed and cried tearfully, “I’ve never in my life known a more ungrateful man than you! Of course I must offer my neighbors as good cakes as I taste in their homes, if not better. It’s the only way to sustain your reputation among them. You don’t love me any more or you’d never treat me like this.”

Our quarrels most often ended by my humbly begging Giulia’s pardon and assuring her that she was the dearest and kindest and cleverest wife that ever a man had. I would also reproach myself for my bad behavior. But such phrases came ever more frequently from the lips only and not from the heart, and I stooped to utter them because my body craved for her and could not bear the abstinence that she would otherwise impose. An invisible rift widened between us and sometimes I would sicken of it all and join my dog in the courtyard under the cold winter sky, with his warmth as my only Comfort. At such lonely moments I felt once more a stranger in the world, and wondered for what strange pattern the great Weaver could use so patchy and brittle a thread as myself.

Giulia’s irritability arose partly from her ill success as a soothsayer, for although her neighbors politely clapped their hands and admired her powers she earned nothing. The capital abounded in so many fortunetellers, astrologers, and throwers of chicken bones, of all races and creeds, besides heiromancers who practiced divination by means of blood and entrails, that it was hard for a newcomer to compete with them. Though Abu el-Kasim diligently sang her praises in the bazaar, he was not a man to inspire confidence. We began to feel shut out again from this mysterious city, where success depended less on reasoned action than on chance.

I slipped imperceptibly into the Ottoman way of life and soon ceased to be regarded as a foreigner; with my gift for languages I combined the faculty of changing my skin, as it were, and assuming a new identity. Piri-reis’s old sea janissaries were friendly, while his clerks and cartographers grew accustomed to seeing me among them every day. Now and again I would be given a task suited to my talents—some errand to the Seraglio library, perhaps, where learned Mussulmans and Greeks were busy with the translation and copying of ancient manuscripts. But among these scholars I found no one to be my friend.

I saw the Sultan once, at a distance, attended by a brilliant throng. A party of bowmen surrounded him as he rode> and as they might

not turn their faces from him, those in front had to run backward. When on Fridays the Sultan rode to his father’s mosque, anyone—even the poorest—might present a petition to him at the end of a long, cleft stick. Many of these petitions were actually read and were dispatched by the Divan to the appropriate officials, for the wrongs recorded therein to be redressed.

The more I thought about this vast empire, built up by the Ottomans from small beginnings and now comprising within its borders more races than I could name, the more deeply impressed was I by the remarkable statesmanship that held it together and made life there agreeable and safe. This realm was governed by milder, juster laws than those of Christendom, and the moderate taxes were not to be compared with the merciless extortions practiced by so many Christian princes. And further, the tolerance shown by Ottomans toward other _ religions was something unheard-of elsewhere; no one was persecuted for his faith save the Persian Shiites, the heretics of Islam. Christians and Jews had their own places of worship and might even observe their own laws if they so chose.

Christians indeed had one heavy tribute to pay, in that every third year they must hand over their sturdiest sons to be trained from their eleventh year upward as the Sultan’s janissaries. But these boys did not complain; they were proud of the honor and became more vigorous champions of Allah than Moslems born and bred.

The High Porte was indeed the Refuge of all Peoples. Not only did the core of the Sultan’s army consist of professional soldiers born of Christian parents, and adopted, brought up, and trained by Turks; the highest appointments in the Empire were held by men of every race who were slaves of the Sultan. To him alone they owed advancement, to him their heads were forfeit if they failed in prompt and meticulous execution of his commands. The Sultan bestowed great power on these men, but his incorruptible agents constantly toured every district of every province and listened to the people’s complaints; thus the local governors were prevented from overstepping the limits of the authority vested in them by custom and the Sultan’s laws.

My life was now bound up with the welfare and success of this empire, and so at first I strove to see everything in the most favorable light. There were signs that the Sultan was preparing for a great campaign, and without wishing ill to anyone I was keenly curious to know what would become of the King of Vienna. I had had experience of

the Emperor’s poverty and did not believe he could send much help to his brother; moreover an inherent feature of the Ottoman Empire was its tendency to expand. In this it followed the doctrines of Islam, which preached unceasing war against the unbeliever. Also the janissaries grew restless and discontented if the Sultan failed to lead them at least once a year into a war in which plunder and fresh honors were to be gained.

Whereas the Emperor Charles’s campaigns cost enormous sums and far exceeded his economic resources, the Sultan’s wars by an ingenious and farsighted arrangement paid for themselves. His regular cavalry, the spahis, drew their income from farms which they held from the Sultan and which were worked by slaves taken in battle. Thus these spahis served their sovereign for almost no wages. In districts bordering the Christian countries light cavalrymen, known as akindshas, lived on a war footing; their traditional banditry inclined them to enter the service of the Sultan. Similar tastes brought a vast number of idle men to the Sultan’s colors as auxiliary troops, which were commonly thrown in as cannon fodder at the forefront of any attack. The Sultan therefore found himself in a far more advantageous position than the Christian leaders and could, even while sustaining losses, slowly but surely wear down enemy resistance. And so, when like Giulia I indulged in dreams of a splendid future, I saw nothing fantastic in the idea that one day I might find myself governor of some wealthy German city, in reward for my services.

But when I discussed Seraglio affairs with Giulia she warned me against relying too much on Ibrahim’s favor, and asked in some derision what it had done for me so far. From our neighbors and at the baths she heard gossip enough, and knew that the Sultan’s favorite slave, Khurrem the Russian, had already borne him three sons. This young and ever vivacious woman had so captured her lord’s heart that he paid not the least attention to the rest of his harem, and had even shamefully dismissed the m®ther of his first-born son. It was now this underbred Russian woman on whom foreign envoys showered their presents; they called her Roxelana and sought by every means to gain her favor. Such was her influence over the Sultan that he would do anything to gratify her smallest wish, and envious voices in the harem had begun to hint at sorcery. Giulia said, “Grand viziers come and go, but woman’s power over man is eternal and her influence stronger than that of even the closest friend. If in some way I could win Sultana Khurrem’s favor I know I might do a great deal more for both of us than the Grand Vizier ever could.”

I smiled at her simplicity, but warned her, “Speak low, woman, for in this city walls have ears. I came here to serve the Grand Vizier and through him Khaireddin, lord of the sea. And you’re mistaken—nothing in the world is so fleeting as sensual passion. How can you suppose that the Sultan will be bound to one woman forever, when the choicest virgins of every race and country wait to obey his slightest sign? No, Giulia, women have no place in high politics; no future can be founded on a wayward houri of the harem.”

Giulia retorted with some asperity, “I’m edified to learn from you that love and passion are such ephemeral things. I shall not forget. But perhaps some men are less fickle than you.”

A few days later the Sultan held a Divan on horseback at which, according to ancient Ottoman custom, questions of peace and war were debated. He appointed Ibrahim commander in chief, or seraskier, of the whole Turkish army and once again confirmed Ibrahim’s position as Grand Vizier, whose commands and ordinances were to be obeyed by high and low, rich and poor, as if they had been the Sultan’s own. The proclamation was so comprehensive and detailed as to convince everyone that from now on Seraskier Ibrahim was, next the Sultan, the highest authority in the Empire.

In token of his favor the Sultan gave him, besides a great quantity of splendid presents, seven horsehair switches instead of the four with which he had previously been honored, and also seven banners—one white, one green, one yellow, two red, and two striped ones—to be borne before him always. The Sultan had further granted him a salary of ten thousand aspers a day: ten times that of the Aga of Janissaries, who held the highest rank of all the agas. In my lowly position I never caught so much as a glimpse of the Grand Vizier, but was delighted to find that my faith in him was justified. When I mentioned this to Giulia she answered, “Have it your own way, Michael. Pin your faith on the Grand Vizier, who has remembered you so often and to such purpose! But allow me to seek my fortune elsewhere.”

Three days later the Sultan released King Ferdinand’s envoys who had been imprisoned in the Fort of the Seven Towers, and bestowed upon each a well-filled purse in compensation for what they had endured. I was told that he addressed these words to them: “Salute your master, and tell him he does not yet know all that our mutual friendship can achieve. But he will soon find out, and I mean to give him with my own hand all that he desires of me. Bid him make timely preparation for my coming.”

To these playful words King Ferdinand’s envoy replied, in a manner quite devoid of finesse, that his sovereign would be most happy to welcome the Sultan if he came as a friend, but that he would also know how to receive him as an enemy. Thus war was declared. But both official and secret agents of Christian states in Istanbul had already sent dispatches flying to their princes as soon as they heard that the Divan had met on horseback.

Spring advanced to the sound of drums and trumpets, and ceaseless rain turned the ground to mud. It was the custom, when the seraskier had set forth in advance to mobilize his troops, for the Sultan to march somewhat later at the head of his janissaries. But now every day small detachments started for the frontier in a prearranged order, and with the creaking, lumbering gun carriages went my brother Andy. For the second time in his life he found himself on the road to Hungary, though this time to fight for the Mussulmans instead of against them. He seemed dubious of the enterprise and wondered how the guns were to be conveyed along pulpy roads and across rivers swollen with the spring freshets. But, he thought, the Mussulmans had perhaps found some method of overcoming these obstacles, since they marched regardless of bad weather.

There was also great activity in Piri-reis’s department, for the fleet was making ready for war. It was to patrol the coasts of the Black Sea and the Aegean, and some vessels were to make their way up the Danube in support of the advancing army. At this time I was sent on many errands to the arsenal and the forecourt of the Seraglio.

One exceptionally fine and sunny day after a long period of rain I was sitting and waiting in the Court of Peace, for my chief duty as messenger was to wait. I was by now familiar with the different dresses worn by the Seraglio servants—their materials, colors, badges, and headdresses—and no longer gaped about me like a stranger. Suddenly I saw a eunuch stumbling toward me. His fat face was swollen with weeping and he wrung his hands in despair as he asked me, “In Allah’s name, are you not that slave of Khaireddin’s, who brought the monkey? You may yet save me from the noose and the pit. Come with me quickly and I’ll beg the Kislar-Aga to allow you into the

Court of Bliss, to coax the monkey down from the tree where it has been all night. A young eunuch has already broken his leg in trying to reach it.”

“I cannot leave my important business to play with monkeys,” I told him.
 

“Are you out of your mind? Nothing can be more important than this, for little Prince Jehangir is weeping and we shall all lose our heads if he continues.”
 

“Perhaps Koko the monkey will remember me,” I reflected, “for I tended her when she was seasick on the long voyage from Algeria. She will certainly remember my dog.”
 

Rael lay curled up beside me, enjoying the warm sunshine, and when he heard Koko’s name he pricked his shaggy ears. We hurried with the eunuch through the second and third courtyards where more eunuchs surrounded us and beat on little drums as a signal to the women to hide themselves. We reached the shining copper gates of the gardens where the Kislar-Aga awaited us—the highest official in the harem and commander of the white eunuchs. It was in vain that he sought to conceal his anxiety behind a dignified demeanor. I threw myself on the ground before him, and he gave orders for me to be admitted instantly to the gardens of the harem. To enter it without permission spelled death to any but eunuchs, and only with an escort of these and by the Sultan’s command might merchants come in to display their wares. Not even a physician might pay a professional visit here without the Sultan’s consent. But I was now hustled with such frantic speed into the most closely guarded gardens in the world that the eunuchs had no time to bathe me or give me clean clothes, as was the custom, and to my annoyance I had to appear as I was.
 

We raced along winding gravel paths, while my escort beat their little drums unceasingly and forbade me to look about me. At last we reached a huge plane tree in which four or five eunuchs with the courage of despair were clambering about in pursuit of the monkey. The monkey clung with hands, feet, and tail to the topmost branch. With cries and lamentations and kind words the eunuchs sought to coax it down to them, and exhorted one another shrilly not to let it fall and hurt itself. Just as I came up, one of these clumsy creatures slipped and tumbled shrieking from a considerable height. The top of the tree swayed as he crashed downward, head first, and lay senseless on the ground among the spring flowers.