The Wanderer (61 page)

His cautious plan prevailed. When early next morning the Emperor’s forces marched from their camp, we left the city to resume our battle with the most experienced and seasoned troops of Christendom. In this Khaireddin acted more courageously than did the Sultan and Grand Vizier in Hungary, though it must be admitted that he had no choice.

Once drawn up in order of battle on the plains, our numbers seemed far from contemptible. The white-clad Arab horsemen covered the slopes of the low hills and the brave inhabitants of Tunis, driven from the city with whips, had armed themselves with cleavers and carving knives, since Khaireddin after the loss of his arsenal in La Goletta could give them nothing better. In numbers, at least, we were nearly equal to the Imperial troops, though not quite ninety thousand as the Emperor’s historians afterward reported to enhance their sovereign’s glory.

I followed Andy’s cannon, armed with a light musket and a scimitar. It was not from ambition or love of fighting that I marched with the rest, but simply because I felt safer among Khaireddin’s janissaries and renegades than in the turbulent city. But the battle lasted little longer than the prayer of one girt for a journey. When the Imperial infantry advanced in squares, the Arab riders poured down the slopes in scattered groups and with wild howls discharged a rain of arrows into the enemy ranks. But the answering artillery fire veiled the yellow battlefield in clouds of smoke, and with even wilder yells the Arabs scattered like chaff. They caught up in their flight the bold defenders of Tunis and swept back into the city more swiftly than they had come. Meanwhile we discharged our cannon. Khaireddin, mounted on his champing steed, noticed that he was now somewhat solitary on that wide field; there were but four hundred or so renegades about him, while thirty thousand well-trained Imperial soldiers were steadily advancing, to say nothing of cannon and muskets.

In this most perilous moment of his life the lord of the sea kept his wits about him. Calling to Allah for help in a voice of thunder, he then exhorted his men to deserve Paradise and hold up the enemy by resolute fighting, while he sought to persuade the fugitives to return. He then set spurs to his horse and galloped so speedily back to the city that many of those he pursued fell beneath his horse’s hoofs.

To us who remained fell the honor of gallantly engaging the whole Imperial army, firing off our cannon once more and shoulder to shoulder defending ourselves against the advancing Germans and Spaniards. Our only hope of safety lay in keeping close order and retiring step by step on the city, since unlike Khaireddin we had no horses at our disposal.

When at last, bleeding and exhausted, we reached the city we found battle raging in the streets. The inhabitants hurled themselves upon the Turks and renegades and from the housetops showered down stones, pots, cauldrons, and whatever else they could lay hands on. They screeched that they would throw off the yoke of the High Porte and greet Muley-Hassan with rejoicing as their deliverer. Then the white flag was run up on the kasbah, and when Khaireddin sought to enter it and save his treasure he found the gates barred, while the Christian slaves who had freed themselves of their shackles greeted him with a hail of stones from the walls, wounding him in head and jaw.

What wonder then that before the gates of the kasbah Khaireddin lost all control of himself, ground his teeth, and yelled between foaming lips, “All is lost! The dogs of unbelievers have captured the citadel and stolen my treasure!”

Terror overwhelmed me when I saw that all was indeed lost. I tried to run after Khaireddin’s horse and hang onto its tail, but my only reward was a kick in the stomach. With a howl of agony I writhed on the ground clutching my belly until Andy dragged me to my feet and led me away, cutting a path through the mob with his sword.

When the Arab horsemen saw that the battle was lost and that Khaireddin had fled, they quickly tore up their treaty with him and galloped off toward the Imperial army, each striving to be the first to pay homage to Muley-Hussan and seek the Emperor’s protection. Their eager yells of peace so alarmed the Spaniards that they drove their rests into the ground again and fired their harquebuses into the advancing hordes. Many hundred Arabs lost their lives, or at least their splendid horses, before the unfortunate mistake was discovered. Was this perhaps the judgment of Allah upon them for their treachery ?

Meanwhile, the inhabitants broke off palm branches and stripped the trees in their gardens so as to hail in time-honored fashion the victorious Muley-Hassan and the Emperor, who entered Tunis in his company. They were therefore utterly dismayed when Germans, Italians, and Spaniards with sword in hand poured in to win salvation by murdering every Moslem they could lay hands on, and to plunder the city.

The sack of Tunis continued for three days, and I have been told that in the course of it no fewer than one hundred thousand Moslems were slain, whether they belonged to Muley-Hassan’s party or to Khaireddin’s.

But I have run ahead of events, and must relate what happened after Khaireddin had fled from the gates of the kasbah. Loyally followed by Sinan the Jew and other bold captains, he made off so swiftly as to abandon the horsetail switches in the street. Here it was that Andy seized an Arab horse by the bridle, threw of? the rider, and pushed me up in his place, so that I found myself very suddenly clinging to the saddle of a shying steed and fumbling frantically for the reins. Andy roared at me to ride to Abu el-Kasim’s house where he would join me as soon as he had collected enough horses. As I left I saw him snatch up Khaireddin’s standard, roaring to janissaries and Mussulmans to rally to the Crescent.

I rode to Abu el-Kasim’s house, protecting my head as best I might from the missiles hurled from the roofs. But when at last I arrived I found Abu lying naked and senseless before his gate. His forehead was smashed in and his beard bloody. Round about him lay a quantity of valuables that had fallen from his bundle, and men were kicking and spitting on his body and reviling him as one of Khaireddin’s spies. I rode straight at them being unable to control my horse, calling upon all the faithful to help me, and they scattered like hens, in the belief that Khaireddin’s mamelukes were at my heels.

I threw myself from the saddle and tethered my quivering, lathered steed. In the courtyard I saw Abu el-Kasim’s wife lying ripped up in her own blood, but even in death she strove to protect her child in her broad bosom. His head was so battered as to be unrecognizable. I knelt quickly beside my friend Abu el-Kasim and poured a little water over his waxen face. He opened his weary monkey eyes for the last time and said in a broken voice, “Ah, Michael! Life is nothing but one great dunghill. This thought is all I can bequeath you in the hour of my death, for the rabble have stolen my purse.”
 

The veil dropped over his eyes and on dark wings came that One who severs the bonds of friendship, silences song, and reveals the vanity of human happiness and grief.

I sat on the ground beside his dead body and wept bitterly. Just then Andy rode into the courtyard, followed by a few men who had remained loyal to Khaireddin. Rising hastily I shouted, “Dear brother Andy, we’re lost! Nothing is left but to seek the Emperor’s protection, and if the worst comes to the worst we can deny our Moslem faith, since fortunately we were never circumcised. My faith in the Prophet has today suffered so hard a blow that it can scarcely recover.”
 

But Andy brandished Khaireddin’s horsetail standard above his head and in a loud voice cursed all unbelievers. Then quietly he said to me, “Do you really fancy that the Spaniards and Germans would show mercy to renegades? Jump into your saddle, Michael, and fight like a man so that we may catch up with Khaireddin at Bona, before he has time to hoist sail and escape to sea without us! Believe me, this is our only hope.”
 

He was battle mad, and his gray eyes rolled so wildly in his powder- blackened face that I could not oppose him. We rode into the street and thanks to the disorder wrought by the Christian slaves we were able to leave the city without violence. We passed countless plundered fugitives who wrung their hands and blindly sought refuge in the desert where the best they could hope for was death from thirst, for the hottest season of the year was now upon us.

At length our exhausted horses brought us to Tagaste where Augustine, the great Father of the Church, was born. At that time, however, I did not stop the meditate upon this, but with sun-dazzled eyes looked eagerly for Khaireddin’s galleys in the harbor. They were just rowing out to sea, but our musket shots and despairing cries induced Khaireddin to send back a boat for us. He greeted us with tears and embraced us like a father, assuring us of his uneasiness on our account. But I slid senseless to the deck, worn out with my exertions. Next morning the skin peeled from my face, and my limbs felt as if they had been crushed. But Khaireddin comforted me, saying, “Allah’s will be done! I dare not return to the Sultan with the fragments of the greatest Ottoman fleet that ever sailed the sea. I shall therefore make for Algiers and remain there until he has had time to calm himself. I’m a poor man now and must begin again from the beginning. I see that my proper place is at sea, not ashore. My friends must speak for me at the Divan, if I still have any friends there. I will be prudent and stay away from the High Porte, and this time gladly leave the talking to others.”
 

Thus the irrepressible Khaireddin began already to form new plans, though we were not yet out of danger and the Emperor had sent his swiftest galleys in pursuit of us. Khaireddin’s escape threatened to snatch the fruits of victory from Charles’s hands, for dominion of the sea was the Emperor’s main object; the restoration of Muley-Hassan to the throne of Tunis was a matter of complete indifference to him. But Khaireddin easily shook off his pursuers and we arrived safely in Algiers, whence he instantly dispatched every seaworthy craft to capture unprotected Christian merchantmen and at the same time to spread fire and devastation along the Italian and Sardinian coasts. These raids were well timed, for victory peals were ringing in every
village, and Christian congregations flocked into the churches to sing the
Te Deum
in thanksgiving for Khaireddin’s defeat.
 

On the third day the Emperor commanded that the looting of Tunis should cease and order be restored in the ravaged city, to allow Muley- Hassan to ascend to the throne of his fathers. In this way the Emperor sought to show how selfless had been his part in the war, which he had embarked upon merely as a favor to a prince who had begged his help.

I have felt it necessary to record the events of this Tunisian crusade, which historians and poets have celebrated and eminent painters immortalized in many pictures. By leading the enterprise in person and exposing himself to countless dangers, the Emperor won the admiration of all Christendom. Poets referred to him as the first chevalier of Europe, to the fury of King Francis I. Yet the true object was never attained, for the summer had not ended before Khaireddin and his captains had given convincing proof of their continued life and vigor. The Emperor’s efforts to annihilate Moslem sea power had been in vain and exceedingly expensive—a circumstance passed over in silence by the historians.
 

I willingly confess that I was in no hurry to return to Istanbul, and stayed for some time in Algiers as the guest of Khaireddin. Not until just before the onset of the winter gales did I venture upon the long voyage home. The arsenal guns fired no acknowledgment of our salute. The Sultan and the Grand Vizier had not yet returned from the Persian campaign, which was of course a great relief to me, and having handed Khaireddin’s letter to a court official who hurried to meet us at the quay, Andy and I took a boat straight to my house, where I might hide my shame away from the gloating stares of the Seraglio.
 

Giulia received me with a pale face and swollen eyes, and reproached me bitterly for neither writing to her nor sending her money. Yet when she perceived my exhaustion and grief she let me be. It is no easy thing even for a mature and hardened man to watch high hopes go up in smoke and to witness the death of a good friend.

She promised to forgive me, therefore, and spoke with malicious pleasure of the Sultan’s army, which after three months of campaigning had recaptured Tabriz and remained there for weeks in the vain attempt to lure Shah Tahmasp into decisive conflict. The Sultan had liberally distributed provinces and cities to distinguished Persians who made submission to him, and when his forces began to run short of food he had started on the homeward march. But as they left first one and then another of the Persian lands behind them, the Shah’s forces recaptured them and inflicted severe losses on the Ottoman rear guard.
The Shiite heretics rejoiced and purified their mosques from Sunnite pollution; so the great Persian campaign petered out.
 

“But,” said Giulia, “the Sultan is in no way to blame for the defeat. The culprits are the bad advisers who enticed him on this questionable enterprise. It is high time the Sultan realized Ibrahim’s uselessness as a general. The Mufti is enraged because he protected the Shiite heretics and forbade the plundering of Persian cities, despite the
fatwa
prepared for the purpose.”
 

I answered sorrowfully, “While the cat’s away the mice will play. I shall not abate my loyalty to the Grand Vizier just because he has suffered defeat. Now more than ever does he need a friend’s support, and I’ll merely remind you of the old proverb, he laughs best who laughs last.”

“I shall laugh, never fear! Expect no sympathy from me if you choose to ruin yourself. But there’s still time. I have spoken to Khurrem on your behalf and she is willing to forgive you, for the sake of Prince Jehangir. I may tell you in confidence that she does not blame Khaireddin for his defeat and is ready to put in a word for him too if you humbly ask it of her. Such is the honesty of this good and devout lady.”