by Mika Waltari
As we slowly crossed the empty, arcaded market place I saw in the middle a gallows guarded by janissaries, from which hung the body of a bearded man. The unexpected sight aroused my curiosity; I rode nearer and to my amazement recognized that face, now blue in death, and the well-known shabby kaftan with its ink-stained sleeves.
“Allah is Allah!” I exclaimed. “Is this not the body of Defterdar Iskender-tseleb? How comes it that this man-the richest, noblest, and most learned in the Ottoman Empire-hangs on this gallows like the meanest malefactor? Could he not at least have been given the green silken noose, so that in the name of the Compassionate he might have taken his own life in the privacy of his room?”
Some of the high court officials who had journeyed with me in obedience to Ibrahim’s summons hid their faces, turned their horses, and rode back to the gates, determined to leave the city without delay. The janissaries guarding the gibbet said fiercely, “It is all the fault of the accursed Grand Vizier. The Sultan is innocent, and we never begged this honor. Who can doubt now that Ibrahim is plotting against the Ottoman Empire? The mufti proclaimed a jatwa entitling us to plunder these heretics of their possessions and to sell them into slavery. But Seraskier Ibrahim, that winebibber and blasphemer, denies us our right to pillage. We should like to know how much the merchants have paid him for that. Wages cannot compensate for this injustice and serve only to show that Grand Vizier Ibrahim is suffering from a tender conscience.”
One could sympathize with the janissaries if their tale was true. IskcnAcr-tseleb’s wealth, piety, and pure Turkish origins had won him great regard throughout the Ottoman Empire, so that indeed it can have been no pleasure to stand sentinel over his dangling corpse. I rode on, oppressed by dark forebodings. At the palace chosen by the Grand Vizier for his headquarters I was received with the greatest suspicion; my clothes were repeatedly searched by the guards, who even ripped up the seams of my kaftan in search of poison and hidden weapons. From this I realized the state of terror prevailing in Bagdad. When at length I was led by the elbow into the presence of the Grand Vizier, I found him too greatly agitated to keep still. He was pacing up and down the marble room, his handsome features were puffy and his eyes bloodshot with strain and lack of sleep. His usually well-kept nails were bitten, and he paused often to take a draught of spiced wine. At the sight of me he forgot all his dignity and hurried forward to embrace me. He dismissed the guards and cried, “At last I behold one known and trusted face among the traitors! Blessed be your coming, Michael el-Hakim, for never did I stand in such need of a clearsighted, impartial friend.”
As coolly and dispassionately as he could he gave me a brief account of the progress of the campaign since the departure from Aleppo, and as I thought the matter over I saw that Ibrahim was in possession of so many proofs of Iskender-tseleb’s treachery as to leave no room for doubt. Against the Seraskier’s will, Iskender had been appointed kehaya, or steward, of the army and, blinded by his hatred of the Grand Vizier, he had acted throughout the campaign against the best interests of the troops. Not until the outset of the terrible winter march from Tabriz to Bagdad was Ibrahim able to persuade the Sultan to dismiss the Defterdar from his post as kehaya, and then it was too late, for when snow set in and floods came and roads were transformed into bottomless swamps, the wretched state of the supplies and equipment was revealed, as also the confusion and disorder brought about by secret agents. The Grand Vizier did not hesitate to cast the blame on Iskender-tseleb both for the ruinous condition of the baggage wagons and for the lack of forage, as a result of which the draft animals dropped from exhaustion. The Kehaya’s reconnaissance and route planning had been most imperfect; indeed, he seemed to have chosen the worst roads in order to undermine the morale of the troops and to incite them to revolt against the Seraskier.
“Vanity led me to follow his deceitful counsels and march on Tabriz without waiting for the Sultan to join me, for it would have been a triumph if I could have defeated the Shah unaided,” said Ibrahim candidly. “All too late I realized that Iskender’s encouragement was born of his secret wish to destroy me and discredit me in the eyes of my lord and sovereign. I now have proof that the Defterdar was in secret communication with the Persians throughout the whole march and gave them all needful information as to our routes and objectives, so that they were able to withdraw in time and avoid a pitched battle. If that is not treachery, tell me what is! In the end it was either his head or mine. Yet since his execution I’ve been oppressed by a feeling of impotence. I feel caught in a net. My head is at stake, and there is no one whom I can trust.”
As we sat drinking wine together, agitated servants in gilded helmets hurried in to tell us that the Sultan had woken from his midday rest and seemed out of his mind. He was screaming and tearing at his breast and no one could quiet him. Together Ibrahim and I raced to the Sultan’s bedchamber, where we found him standing in the middle of the floor staring into space. His face was wet with sweat, and he trembled all over. The sight of the Grand Vizier seemed to bring him to himself; he wiped his face and dismissed all anxious questions with the words, “I had a bad dream.”
His nightmare had been so terrible that he refused to speak of it, and the Grand Vizier proposed that they should visit the baths together. Because of their many cares and anxieties they had both drunk too much and so become a prey to nightmares and even waking illusions. But the Sultan was plunged in his own thoughts; his eyes were lowered and he would not look the Grand Vizier in the face.
The execution of Iskender-£re/e£, which had caused such an uproar in Bagdad, nevertheless cleared the air and made plain to everyone who was master. One of its results was to bring about a shuffle of appointments by which some found themselves a rung higher in the hierarchy. These had every reason to feel grateful to the Grand Vizier. Moreover the newly conquered provinces in Persia offered new and profitable posts. By means of these and other measures superficial order was restored, and there were even cheers to be heard when the Sultan and the Grand Vizier together rode to the mosque or to the holy tombs in the neighborhood of the city.
In the course of these devotional exercises the Sultan was always greatly saddened by the fact that Shiites had long since destroyed the tomb of the founder of Sunna, the wise Abu-Hanif, and in their heretic frenzy had even burned his holy bones, so that no orthodox Sun- nite had since then been able to pay homage to the greatest saint of the true path.
Though discontent in the army was temporarily allayed, the Grand Vizier thought with some uneasiness of the coming spring and the renewed campaigns against Persia. He engaged a learned historian to chronicle the course of events, and having thus ensured a fair and impartial record he questioned the learned man as to previous campaigns, constantly reverting to the story of Eiup, the Prophet’s stand- ard-bearer, and demanding to know every detail of his life. Eiup had died a hero’s death before the impregnable walls of Constantinople, and hundreds of years later his sacred bones were mysteriously found in the forgotten grave-a discovery that fired the janissaries of Muhammed the Conqueror at the final victorious assault on Constantinople. There was a strange light in Ibrahim’s eyes as he said to me, “Such another find would be very welcome just now, to inspire the troops with courage and enthusiasm. Yet I fear the days of miracles are past.”
I am resolved to express no opinion about what followed. According to a secret tradition handed down among the descendants of one of the guards of Abu-Hanif’s tomb, this guard rejected the Shiite heresy, rescued the saint’s remains, and buried them elsewhere, replacing them by those of a heretic. These false bones had afterward been burned, but the sacred relics of the great teacher were in safekeeping somewhere within the walls of Bagdad.
This story was told, for a consideration, to one of the Sultan’s attendants by a direct descendant of the watchman. The attendant related it to the Grand Vizier, who commanded a certain devout and learned man named Tashkun to seek out the resting place of the bones.
After much resea
rch and diligent peering among the ruins, Tashkun ordered his men to dig up the floor of a certain dilapidated house. An ancient vault was revealed, through one of whose walls came a heavenly fragrance of musk. Hearing of this discovery, the Grand Vizier at once hastened to the spot and with his own hands pulled away a few stones, leaving a gap large enough to crawl through. Thus the resting place of the great Imam was discovered and its sanctity vouched for by the mysterious fragrance. An express messenger was sent to the Sultan, who came in haste and descended into the tomb. The army could now see for themselves that by the grace of Allah, Ibrahim and Suleiman had rediscovered the long-lost but miraculously preserved remains. The Sultan spent nearly a day and a night at the tomb in prayer and fasting, and his fervor infected the troops; even the dullest could see that Abu-Hanif hoped for the uprooting of the Shiite heresy, so that the path of Sunna, which he had founded, might take the place of honor in every country of Islam.
I naturally visited the tomb myself and saw the yellow-brown skull and the skeleton in its rotting shroud, and I was able to satisfy myself that these remains gave out the same scent that I remembered from my boyhood when, as a reward for scholarship, I was allowed to help at the enshrining of holy Hemming’s bones in Abo cathedral. Nevertheless this strange and timely discovery caused me some distress of mind, and at a convenient moment I inquired of the Grand Vizier how it had come about. He was far from being a devout man. Was it deliberate deception, I asked him, or some diabolical illusion?
Grand Vizier Ibrahim looked upon me with shining eyes, and his whole being seemed purified by his prayer and fasting as in a firm and convincing tone he replied, “Believe me or not, Michael, the discovery of those bones was the greatest surprise of my life. I had planned to deceive and with the help of my most faithful dervishes I buried some bones of suitable holiness for pious, credulous old Tashkun to find. No doubt they lie hidden to this day. I was far more amazed than Tashkun when thanks to his drearns and other visions he actually found Abu-Hanif’s tomb. Surely if such things can befall me, the star of my fortune cannot fail to reach the zenith.”
But the suspicions of the Seraglio had poisoned my mind, and his words did not convince me.
The discovery of Abu-Hanif’s holy bones eclipsed all unpleasant or troublesome memories, and the army spent the remainder of the winter in feasting and merrymaking. With the coming of spring the Grand Vizier grew more serene. His despair melted away and gave place to an exhilarated, joyful mood. Nothing seemed impossible, and the whole world witnessed his triumphs. He had sent word to Venice and Vienna of the capture of Bagdad, and even now the French ambassador with a brilliant retinue was on his way with felicitations and proposals for an alliance. Ibrahim seemed to have attained the climax of his fame and glory; nevertheless he was not blinded by it, and before I left that beautiful city he sent for me to give me my final instructions.
“I’ve had enough of treachery and in future I will show no mercy to any who plot against me. You must go to Khaireddin in Tunis, and if you value your head keep him from succumbing to the blandishments of either the Seraglio or the Emperor; let him remember his debt to me. It was not to help him extend his own kingdom that I made him Kapudan-pasha, and he must now keep Doria and the Emperor busy at sea so that I need not give a thought to what goes on behind my back while I’m waging war in Persia. Impress this on him, or he may lose his horsehair switches as suddenly as he came by them.”
In proof of his favor and his continued trust he bestowed such princely gifts upon me as to surpass my wildest hopes. From them I gained some notion of the sums the Bagdad merchants must have paid him for protection; from them also I glimpsed the glorious future awaiting me if fortune continued to smile upon him and I proved myself worthy of his trust.
I came home to find Giulia in a state of agitation.
“The Seraglio is in an uproar over the murder of Iskender-to?/‹f£. and Ibrahim has not a single friend left. He has shown that neither fortune, birth, merit, nor the most tested fidelity in the Sultan’s service can protect a man from his mad lust for blood.”
This and much more she said, but I paid little heed, being still full of the wonder of Bagdad, and I had not the smallest doubt that despite all intrigues the Grand Vizier’s star of fortune was now rising to its zenith.
Soon after my return a wealthy Jewish dealer in precious stones called upon me, honored me with many fine presents, and by way of introduction brought me greetings from Aaron in Vienna. After mutual expressions of esteem he said, “You’re the friend of the great Khaireddin, Michael el-Hakim, and it seems that last summer when Khaireddin attacked Tunis, Sultan Muley-Hassan was forced to flee from his kasbah. In his fright he left behind him a red velvet bag containing two hundred selected diamonds of considerable size. In the list of presents sent by Khaireddin to the Sultan there is no mention of these stones, and no trace of their sale has been found either in Istanbul, Aleppo, or Cairo. I have made many inquiries about the matter among my colleagues in different cities, for as you may fancy, so considerable a treasure aroused my curiosity. You need not regret speaking openly to me, Michael el-Hakim, and telling me all you know of this. I would offer you the highest possible prices and assure you of my silence. If necessary I can sell these diamonds in India and even China without anything becoming known of the matter. I am accustomed to such traffic, and if as I suppose the Grand Vizier is concerned in it-for it represents a vast fortune-he need feel no uneasiness about the consequences.”
“Allah is Allah!” I exclaimed in some indignation. “Where did you hear all this nonsense? And how dare you insult the Grand Vizier by mentioning his name in the same breath with such an affair? I have never even heard of these diamonds.”
But the Jew swore to the truth of what he said and in an attempt to convince me he went on, “Muley-Hassan himself laments his loss in a letter to the Emperor-a letter actually seen by a colleague of mine. The Tunisian Sultan’s ambassador to the Imperial Court has openly boasted of it, to draw attention to his lord’s wealth.”
Aghast, I seized the Jew by the beard, and shaking his head by it I cried, “Wretch, what are you saying? What is Muley-Hassan’s ambassador doing at the Emperor’s Court?”
The honest Jew freed his beard and said reproachfully, “Are you a stranger in the city? The news is in every man’s mouth. The Knights of St. John and the Pope himself have besought the Emperor to drive Khaireddin from Tunis. Sultan Muley-Hassan has appealed to the Emperor; he declares that all his misfortunes have resulted from his loyalty to Charles, and so for his own sake Charles must at least try to help him.”
If all this was true it was indeed high time for me to hasten to Tunis, carry out my task there, and hurry away before the Emperor’s attack. I ought to have relied more on Ibrahim’s foresight and not dallied so long on the way. I therefore hastily dismissed the Jew with renewed assurances that I knew nothing of his diamonds, and with promises to inquire secretly into the matter. This I did merely to be rid of him, for I had other things to think of now.
Fair winds and a swift galley brought me to the yellow Tunisian coast and within sight of the Fortress of La Goletta, from whose tower floated Khaireddin’s green and red standard with its silver crescent. Great activity prevailed. Trenches were being dug, barricades erected, and thousands of half-naked, sunburned Spanish and Italian slaves were widening the canal to Tunis. This city is situated on the shores of a shallow salt lake and is separated from the sea by swamps. The sight of Khaireddin’s war galleys anchored in long rows in the harbor greatly relieved and cheered me, but not until I approached the city itself did I realize the true significance of Khaireddin’s latest capture. I had indeed heard much of the wealth and might of Tunis, but discounted much of it as flights of fancy on the part of Khaireddin and Sinan the Jew. Within the city walls there were, besides the kas- bah and the great mosque, about twenty thousand houses, or at least two hundred thousand people; Tunis could thus compare with the great cities of Europe. Not even Khaireddin
knew the number of Christian slaves, but I fancy their number did not exceed twenty thousand.
To my great delight I saw that the reconquest of Tunis for Muley- Hassan would be no easy task even for the Emperor. Only by cunning and the incitement of the inhabitants to revolt had Khaireddin contrived to enter it, and even after Muley-Hassan’s flight there had been long and bloody street fighting before the people laid down their arms. The sturdy, defiant towers of La Goletta appeared impregnable and blocked the road that ran along the canal into the city, while numberless little lakes and poisonous swamps on either side of this canal made encirclement almost impossible.
Khaireddin received me with every sign of delight, embracing me like a long-lost son and entertaining me so lavishly that I began to fear the worst. He gave me no opportunity of speaking, but boasted loudly of his defenses and the savage lesson he would give the Emperor and Doria if they came too near Tunis. When I inquired how it was that his proud ships lay at anchor instead of sailing forth to engage Doria in open combat, he turned very sulky and asked for the latest news of the war in Persia and of Iskender-ta?/e£’.r execution, of which he had heard only the mendacious rumors of the Seraglio. Was it indeed true that Grand Vizier Ibrahim had gone out of his mind and ran about on all fours foaming at the mouth and chewing the carpets? To this I replied sharply that such a tale was nothing but malicious invention. Khaireddin listened attentively, stroking his beard, and I fancied I saw a guilty look in those prominent eyes of his, as of a child caught out in some misdeed. My misgivings increased.