by Mika Waltari
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 thro
ugh 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.
Lamentable though this incident was, it was not without its comic side, and three well-dressed boys of whom the eldest was perhaps eleven years old burst into uproarious laughter at the spectacle. But the fourth wept softly. He was not more than five. He sat on the arm of a man in a flowered silk kaftan in whom to my amazement I recognized Sultan Suleiman himself. There was no mistaking his smoke-colored complexion, though in his plain dress and low turban he looked strangely short in stature. I at once threw myself down and kissed the ground before him and his sons.
All was confusion round the tree. Ropes lay about, ladders were propped against the trunk, and efforts had clearly been made to bring the monkey down by squirting water at it. Even at this distance I could see that it was sick, and it moaned as it clung helplessly to the bough. The Kislar-Aga bent low before the Sultan and suggested that I should be sent up the tree since I knew the monkey, and indeed had brought the bewitched animal to the Seraglio. If I failed he would have me beheaded, and so no harm would come of my admission to the forbidden gardens.
His harsh words so wounded me that I rose at once and said, “I never asked to come here; I was induced with tears and prayers to offer my help. Call down those blockheads. They scare the poor beast. And stop that drumming. Then give me a little fruit and I’ll try to coax it down.”
The Kislar-Aga said, “Is it thus you speak to me, miserable slave? And know that since early morning we have tried to fetch it down with fruit.”
But Sultan Suleiman said curtly, “Call them down and send everyone away. You, too, have my leave to go.”
When the chattering eunuchs had disappeared with their ropes, ladders, and syringes, complete stillness reigned. The little boy in the Sultan’s arms had ceased sobbing, and only the moans of the monkey could be heard. Not venturing to address the Sultan I turned to his eldest son and said, “Noble Prince Mustafa, the monkey is sick. That’s why it fled up the tree. I shall try to coax it down.”
The dark, handsome boy nodded haughtily. I sat down upon the ground with Rael in my arms and called softly and coaxingly, “Koko! Koko!” The monkey peeped suspiciously through the branches and gave a few faint cries, but would not move. Then I said to Rael, hoping that the Sultan would hear, “Dear, faithful dog! Koko doesn’t know me in my new clothes, and thinks I’m one of the eunuchs. You call her. Perhaps she’ll remember playing with you on board ship. Try to call her down from the tree.”
Rael looked up into the treetop, pricked his ears, and whined softly, then barked twice. The monkey climbed down a little way to get a clearer view, and Prince Jehangir still on his father’s arm held up his little hands and called, “Koko! Koko!” The monkey hesitated, but as Rael went on whining she made up her mind and climbed swiftly down. She sped up to me, sprang into my arms, and hugged me with her white-whiskered cheek against mine, her whole spindly body shaking with fever.
Koko stretched out one arm and stroked Rael, then pulled his ears and tail, whereupon Rael gently caught her hand in his teeth and growled warningly. At the beginning of our voyage the monkey had tormented the life out of Rael, pinching him at every opportunity and then taking flight to the top of the mast, leaving the dog barking furiously below. But later they both enjoyed the game and became friends; sometimes they basked together on deck and Koko lay with her arms about Rael’s neck, or with nimble fingers plucked fleas from his coat.
But now she broke off her play in a terrible fit of coughing, one tiny hand pressed to her chest. Tears flowed from the haggard eyes, and between paroxysms she uttered heartrending cries as if to tell me how wretched and lonely she felt. Rael too began to whine piteously, and licked Koko’s limp hand as if he understood. The princes came to stroke the sick monkey and to my surprise the Sultan drew near too, and spreading out the skirts of his kaftan sat down beside me on the ground so that Prince Jehangir could touch the little creature. The Sultan said to me, “You must be a good man, since animals trust you. Is the monkey sick?”
I replied, “I have studied medicine both in Christian countries and among Moslems, and I know that this poor beast has fever. It will die, if Allah so wills. It could not survive this climate, and the night spent in the tree has worsened the chill. I think it fled up the tree to die there alone, for most of the creatures we try to tame prefer to die in solitude, away from humans.”
Prince Mustafa said hotly, “The monkey has lived in warm rooms and worn warm clothes every day, for it’s my brother Jehangir’s pet. The slave who’s to blame for its illness shall pay for it with his head.”
I answered, “No one is to blame for this illness, for monkeys are most sensitive to changes of climate, and even in the palaces of sunny Italy they sicken and die. If this little monkey should perish too, it will be by the will of Allah and we cannot prevent it. Nevertheless I’ll prepare a cough mixture to soothe the pain.”
The Sultan said, “Will you indeed give this poor beast medicine? Most physicians consider it beneath their dignity to treat animals. Yet the Prophet loved them, especially camels and cats. Indeed animals, unlike men, are without guile and I hate to see them suffer. But I have many animal doctors in my service and shall need you no longer. Selim, give him the monkey’s clothes. Mustafa, give him the chain. And you, Michael, dress the monkey and fasten the chain about its neck; then leave us.”
The boys handed me a little wool-lined velvet kaftan and a thin silver chain, but Koko struggled when I tried to put them on her. At last I succeeded, and laying the end of the chain in Prince Jehangir’s little hand I told the boys to give the monkey some warm milk. Then I rose, called my dog, and prepared to leave the gardens. But at this Koko flew into a passion, kicked and struggled and tried to bite the princes, then tore loose and ran after me. With the chain rattling behind her she scrambled up into my arms and clung there.
The Sultan was at a loss. He put down the little boy, who ran up to me crying, flung one arm around my leg and raised the other to stroke the monkey. It was then I noticed that the poor little fellow was club- footed, and that a hump was beginning to show beneath his silken coat. His sallow face was as ugly as the monkey’s, and he was almost stifled with his sobs. Then Selim, the third prince, clutched his head and cried in a shrill voice that he was going to faint. The Sultan shouted, “Mustafa and Muhammed! Take Jehangir in at once and this man too, to look after the monkey. Send the Kislar-Aga to me and call the tselebs.”
As I bent to rub Prince Selim’s temples the Sultan signed to m
e to go, no doubt meaning the boys to take me out of the harem gardens to their own quarters in the inner court. But the young princes misunderstood him and instead led me to Prince Jehangir’s rooms where the monkey’s cage was. I could feel the eyes of agitated eunuchs following me from behind the bushes, but did not then know enough to be afraid.
Carrying the monkey and leading Prince Jehangir by the hand I followed the boys to Sultana Khurrem’s pavilion of many-colored tiles, thus committing all unawares the gravest possible offense. Mustafa, Muhammed, and Selim, all being over seven years old, lived with their tselebs, or tutors, in the third courtyard; but the sickly Jehangir, who was only five, remained in his mother’s pavilion and was allowed to keep his monkey there. I was certainly somewhat startled to see the women attendants hastening toward us unveiled, in the belief that I was a eunuch, yet I still had no misgivings and entered Prince Jehan- gir’s spacious room in which stood the monkey’s gilded cage and its bed. I ordered the women to fetch some hot milk at once for the sick animal, while the boys sat down on cushions to watch all I did. Rael hurried round the room sniffing into every corner, and Prince Jehangir, like any other tear-stained and weary child, began crying for his mother.
All that had happened so far seemed purely the result of chance, and only later did I learn that Prince Selim was an epileptic. During his childhood the attacks could be controlled and suppressed by means of sedatives. They did not become serious until as a youth he began to drink too much wine. The Sultan naturally wished to keep this terrible disorder secret, and that was why he sent me so hastily out of the garden; he feared that the excitement might bring on an attack. Prince Mustafa was born of the Circassian slave whom Suleiman had dismissed in favor of Khurrem. He was thus only half-brother to Jehangir, and it had evidently been the Sultan’s intention that Mustafa should take me to his own rooms; but Mustafa was generous hearted and of course thought it best for the monkey to be taken straight to its warm cage.