Siege

by Jack Hight

  Sitt Hatun motioned for her servants to remain where they were, then rose and went to the odalisque, who looked away as she wiped at her tears. Bayezid was nearby, huddled in a small space between two bushes. Sitt Hatun sat down on the grass near the nurse. Bayezid peeked out furtively. He was a precious child, with the fair skin and light hair of his mother and the distinctive nose of his father. His left cheek was bruised bluish-black.

  'Hello, young prince,' Sitt Hatun said.

  'Hello,' the boy replied.

  'You are not to speak to him,' the boy's nurse warned Sitt Hatun. She glanced towards Gulbehar's apartments. 'I should not be seen with you. Please go!'

  Sitt Hatun remained seated. 'Gulbehar does not treat you well, does she?' Sitt Hatun asked. She reached out and gently touched the nurse's arm. 'You or the boy?'

  The nurse turned away, fresh tears in her eyes. 'I am her servant. I cannot speak ill of her. I should not speak to you at all. My Lady says you are dangerous.'

  'Do I look dangerous?' Sitt Hatun asked softly. The young nurse shook her head. 'I am a mother, too,' Sitt Hatun told her. 'It pains me to see young Bayezid suffer.'

  'My Lady says that if Selim becomes sultan, you will send men to kill Bayezid.'

  'That is nonsense,' Sitt Hatun assured the girl. Bayezid would indeed probably be killed when Selim took the throne, but Sitt Hatun would have little to do with it. 'I swear to you that I will never harm the child. Not everyone in the harem is as heartless as Gulbehar.'

  'She is a monster,' the girl spat with surprising vehemence. 'She hits Bayezid and treats her servants even worse. I can live with the beatings, but Bayezid is only a child.' A door slammed in Gulbehar's apartments, and the Russian girl froze. 'You must go,' she whispered. 'I must not be seen with you.'

  'I understand,' Sitt Hatun told her. 'But first, tell me: what is your name, girl?'

  'Kacha, My Lady.'

  'I know how hard it must be for you, Kacha. If you ever have need of a friend, then my quarters are always open to you. Bayezid will be welcome, too. The boy should have a place where he feels safe from his mother.'

  'But how, My Lady?' Kacha asked. 'Gulbehar would never allow it.'

  'She need never know. There is a secret passage that connects your apartments to mine. Tell me, which room is Bayezid's?' Kacha pointed to a window above them. 'That is perfect,' Sitt Hatun said. 'Here is what you must do. Go to the wall of his room away from the window. The wall is decorated with animals carved from wood. Find the lion and press its head. A door will open.' Kacha nodded. 'Be sure to close the door behind you, so that you are not followed. The passage will be dark. Follow it until you come to a flight of stairs. They will take you down to the harem kitchen. Cross the kitchen and take the central passage on the far wall. It leads directly to my bedroom. Knock like this when you reach the end.' Sitt Hatun mimed two knocks, a pause, and then three knocks.

  'I understand,' Kacha said. 'Thank you, My Lady.'

  'It is nothing. You may be a slave here, but that does not mean that you should not be treated with kindness.' Sitt Hatun squeezed Kacha's shoulder, then rose and returned to Selim and Anna. A moment later, Gulbehar stormed into the garden.

  'Kacha! What are you doing here?' she demanded. 'Bring Bayezid here at once!' Gulbehar gave Sitt Hatun a venomous look and then turned and strode away, followed by Kacha with Bayezid. Sitt Hatun gathered up Selim and also left.

  She entered her apartments to find Halil's secretary, Davarnza, waiting for her. He produced a folded piece of paper and handed it to Sitt Hatun. It was a note from Halil. He was coming to the harem to meet with her, tonight. Sitt Hatun sat on her bed, watching the full moon reflect off the Maritza river as it flowed past the palace. She had sent her servants to their quarters hours earlier, keeping only Anna by her side. They sat waiting for Halil, and Sitt Hatun thought back to that other night when they had sat together in the dark, waiting for Isa to come and rescue them. She thought of Cicek's death and of her night with Halil. She shuddered as she remembered the cold touch of his hand.

  There was a quiet knocking on the hidden door that led to the servants' walkway and down into the harem kitchen. Two knocks, and that was all. Anna rose and opened the door. Halil stepped through into the chamber. He was wrapped in women's clothing and his face was veiled, but Sitt Hatun recognized him immediately from his pale-grey eyes.

  'Good evening, Sitt Hatun,' Halil said in his smooth, oily voice as he removed the veil. 'Thank you for agreeing to meet me. We have much to talk about.' He nodded towards Anna. 'I would prefer to speak in private.'

  'I have no secrets from her,' Sitt Hatun said. 'Say what you have come to say, Halil, and be gone.'

  'Straight to business: a trait I remember all too well from our last encounter,' Halil said. 'Very well then. I wish to discuss our son's future. You know that Mehmed is preparing to besiege Constantinople. Warfare is a dangerous business, and if the sultan were to die, then the succession would be disputed between Bayezid and our Selim. I am sure you realize that if Bayezid were to become sultan, then our precious child would be murdered.'

  'But Gulbehar is out of favour, and you are the grand vizier,' Sitt Hatun said. 'Surely it would be Selim who takes the throne.'

  'Yes, but I cannot be sure. We would be more secure if there were no disputed succession, if Bayezid were removed beforehand.'

  'You mean murdered,' Sitt Hatun accused. 'He is only a boy.'

  'But he is a dangerous boy. And after all, when Selim becomes sultan, Bayezid will be killed anyway as a matter of course. Why not act now? It would be an easy enough matter for you or your servants. I could provide you with certain poisons that would make it painless.'

  Sitt Hatun thought of young Bayezid, his trusting golden eyes, and shook her head. 'No, I will not have any part in the child's death, and I want no more of your plotting, Halil.' She would deal with Bayezid in her own way. 'We had an agreement, and that agreement is over,' Sitt Hatun continued. 'I have done my part. I will have nothing more to do with this intrigue, or with you.' She turned her back to him. 'You may go now.'

  'But think, Sitt Hatun,' Halil said, moving forward and placing his hand on her shoulder. He had no sooner touched her, however, than Anna stepped behind him and pulled his arm away while with her other hand she brought a knife to Halil's throat.

  'My Lady asked you to leave,' Anna said. 'I suggest that you do so.'

  'You would not dare,' Halil hissed. His free hand went to a dagger at his belt, but Anna pressed her knife more closely to his throat. Halil released the dagger. 'Unhand me,' he ordered.

  'I would only be obeying the law,' Anna replied. 'You must know that the punishment is death for any man not of the royal family found in the harem. Unless, of course, that man is a eunuch.' She moved her knife down to Halil's groin. 'If you wish to stay, I can do you that service.'

  'No, no, I will leave,' Halil said. Anna withdrew her knife and stepped away. Halil bowed stiffly to the sultana and moved to the secret door, where he paused and turned. 'Think well on what I have said, Sitt Hatun. You will see that it is for the best.' With that, he left.

  Not two minutes later, there was another faint knocking — two knocks, a pause, and three more. Anna opened the secret door and Kacha stepped out, holding Bayezid. 'I am sorry to come so late, My Lady,' Kacha said. 'But I had to get away. Just look at what Gulbehar has done to her own child.' The boy had a fresh mark on his forearm — the angry red imprint of a hand — and he was sobbing quietly. 'I hate her!' Kacha said.

  Sitt Hatun took Bayezid and held the boy close. 'There, there. All will be well,' she soothed and then turned to Kacha. 'Did you see anybody on your way here? Were you seen?'

  'There was an old woman in the kitchen, but she did not see us.'

  'Good,' Sitt Hatun said. 'I am glad you came, Kacha. You and Bayezid will always have friends here.' Sitt Hatun stroked Bayezid's head and thought of Halil's words: for Selim to become sultan, this boy must die. Several nights later, Halil, his face hidde
n in the folds of a hooded cloak, emerged from a small side door of the palace and slipped into a curtained litter. Four burly slaves lifted the litter and set off into the heart of the dark city. It was less than a month since Mehmed had taken the throne, and Halil was already chafing under the new sultan's reign. Mehmed was as headstrong as ever and as hard to control as Halil had feared. Halil had spent years helping Murad to craft a peace with the Christians, and already Mehmed was eager to wreck it. He ignored Halil's advice and insisted on giving him the most thankless of tasks. It was almost as degrading as the time many years ago when Murad had given him the loathsome job of rounding up Christian children for the devshirme, to provide soldiers for the janissaries. Only then Halil had been a mere kaziasker, a military judge in the new province of Salonika, and not the grand vizier.

  Halil's litter was set down in an alley behind Ishak Pasha's grand Edirne residence. Halil had been surprised at how readily Ishak had agreed to this late night meeting, but then, Ishak had his reasons. After the battle of Kossova, Murad had appointed him second vizier of the empire. Now Mehmed had passed over Ishak without mention, not reconfirming his post as vizier or as head of the Anatolian cavalry. There were few more loyal to the empire than Ishak, but if his loyalty were to ever waver, now was surely the time.

  One of Ishak's servants was waiting beside a small door, and Halil left the litter and followed him into the house. The servant led him up a flight of stairs and into a small room, bare but for a thick carpet, a few cushions and a low table on which was set a tea kettle and two small ceramic cups. Ishak stood there waiting, his hands clasped behind his back. He looked the same as ever — steel-grey hair and a handsome, weathered face. The servant left, closing the thick door behind him, and Ishak stepped forward and embraced Halil. 'Welcome, old friend.'

  'Thank you for meeting me,' Halil said as they both sat down on the cushions.

  'You said that it was important, and to speak truly, I am eager for any information that you can give me,' Ishak said. He poured two cups of steaming tea and handed one to Halil. 'What news do you bring from the palace? Has the sultan spoken of me?'

  Halil shook his head, and Ishak's shoulders slumped. Clearly, Ishak had been hoping that Halil brought news of an appointment. 'I bring only bad news from the palace, I am afraid,' Halil said. He gestured to the room. 'May I speak freely here?'

  'The walls of this room are thick. No one will overhear us.'

  Halil nodded, but he lowered his voice nevertheless. 'It is of the sultan that I must speak,' he said. 'I fear that he may not be fit to rule. He speaks only of plots against him. He fears your power and plans to strip you of your rank and exile you to the provinces, where you will be of no threat to him. He is treating all of the able men in the empire likewise. I fear that my turn will come soon enough.'

  'This is bad news indeed,' Ishak mused as he sipped at his tea. 'I had hoped that age would make Mehmed wiser.'

  'Alas, he has not changed. He surrounds himself with fools and sycophants, just as he did during his first reign. He ignores me and openly scorns his father's ministers, preferring to listen to any who will flatter his vanity. I fear he will lead our great empire to ruin.'

  'Do not be melodramatic, Halil. Mehmed is young still. In time he will gain wisdom.'

  'In time? When? After we are long dead?' Halil set his tea down untasted and met Ishak's eyes. 'I am not willing to wait that long, Ishak. Are you?'

  'What are you suggesting, Halil?'

  'Perhaps we would do better to serve a different sultan,' Halil said. Ishak's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, so Halil continued. 'Mehmed's child Selim is still only a babe. Until he is grown, the empire would be in the hands of those wise enough to rule it properly.'

  'Rebellion then,' Ishak said, a trace of disgust in his voice. 'This is your counsel? And what of Mehmed?'

  'Mehmed is young and weak. The army bears no love for him, but they will follow you. Raise the army and take the palace. I will see to it that you meet little resistance. Within a month from now Selim could be on the throne with you and I as his viziers, ruling the empire as it should be ruled.'

  Ishak did not reply. He finished his tea and then rose and began to pace the room. Finally he stopped, rubbing his hands as if to wash them. 'Why have you come here?' he asked. 'We are old friends, Halil. You know that I would never betray the sultan.'

  'But Mehmed is no sultan!' Halil insisted, also rising. 'You remember his first reign: consorting with that half-mad Persian heretic and ignoring the army while the Christians marched on our lands. He is no different today. Now he dreams of conquering Constantinople, this after he almost lost the battle of Kossova despite having more than twice as many men as the Christians. You were there, Ishak. You saw. Are you willing to give your life to satisfy his foolish vanity?'

  'He may be a fool, but he is a brave fool,' Ishak replied. 'He led the final charge at Kossova himself and against great odds. But I would follow him were he a fool and a coward, for the choice is not mine. Allah has chosen Mehmed to be the sultan, and that is an end to the matter.'

  'Even if that means that you are passed over and ignored, exiled and left to rot while men like Saruja Pasha take the place that is rightfully yours?'

  'I will never raise my hand against the sultan, Halil,' Ishak said with finality. 'Never.'

  Halil nodded. He had suspected as much. Still, he had one card left to play. 'This is not merely a question of your loyalty to the sultan. This is not a game that I am playing, Ishak. I know that you despise such plotting, but you cannot hold yourself aloof from this. You must choose a side. Either you are with me, or you are against me.'

  Ishak turned his back on Halil. 'Then I am against you, old friend,' he said with a sigh. 'You may leave now. My servant will show you out. Allah go with you.'

  'And with you,' Halil said as he left. He had expected no less. Ishak Pasha had always been a man of unshakeable integrity, a soldier with little stomach for the ugly side of politics. No, Halil was not surprised, nor was he upset. His midnight errand had ended exactly as he had hoped it would. Mehmed had hardly awakened when the chief eunuch appeared and told him that Ishak Pasha requested a private audience with him. The old soldier had arrived at sunrise and had been waiting ever since; he was adamant that he would not leave until he had seen the sultan. Mehmed hurried to dress. This promised to be a most interesting meeting.

  As always, Mehmed paused at a spyhole before entering his audience chamber, and took a few seconds to examine Ishak. He stood stiff and stern, his beard neatly trimmed and his clothes the simple garb of a soldier. Even standing alone, Ishak emanated authority. He was a man that Mehmed would not want against him. After a final look, Mehmed entered the chamber and seated himself on the throne, acknowledging Ishak's bow with a wave of his hand.

  'I am pleased to see you, Ishak Pasha,' Mehmed began. 'Now, what is so important that you come before me at this early hour?'

  'I have learned of a plot to kill you and place your youngest son on the throne, My Lord. Last night, I was approached and asked to join the conspiracy. Of course, I felt it was my duty to inform you at once of this treason.'

  'Treason?' Mehmed frowned. 'This is most serious then. Who has committed this treason?'

  Ishak hesitated, and Mehmed could tell that the next words were hard for him. 'I regret to inform you that the traitor is the grand vizier, Halil Pasha.'

  Mehmed nodded in satisfaction. 'I am most pleased by your loyalty, Ishak Pasha,' he said. 'It is no easy task to accuse one's friend, even though it be to protect the sultan. I see that my father was right to value you so highly. You are a man who can be trusted, and your loyalty will be rewarded.'

  'Thank you, My Lord,' Ishak said and bowed.

  'As for Halil, do not fear,' Mehmed continued. 'I already know everything that he said to you last night.'

  'You do, My Lord? But how?'

  'Because I am the one who sent him.'

  'I do not understand, My Lord.'

>   'I will be moving against Constantinople soon, Ishak Pasha, and I need commanders who I can trust,' Mehmed explained. 'I needed to be sure of your loyalty before granting you your post. You are to be the Governor of Anatolia, and you shall remain the commander of the Anatolian Cavalry.'

  'I am most grateful, My Lord,' Ishak said.

  'And I am most grateful for your loyalty, Ishak Pasha. As for the conspiracy that Halil told you of, never fear: it does not exist.' That night, Halil sat alone, reading by candlelight in his private study — a secure, thick-walled room for which only he had the key. He held in his hands a coded letter from the Greek monk Gennadius. The letter represented the opportunity that Halil had been waiting for. The relationship that he had been cultivating with the rebellious monk had now paid off twofold. Originally, Halil had sent his poisons to Gennadius merely to facilitate the death of the Greek Empress-Mother Helena, and he had expected nothing more. But now Gennadius was offering up Constantinople to him on a platter, going so far as to guarantee the fall of the city so long as Halil assured Gennadius that he would be made patriarch and there would be no union between the Orthodox and Catholic churches.

  The offer was too good to pass up. With Gennadius's assistance, perhaps conquering Constantinople would be possible after all. Yes, Halil decided, he would agree to Gennadius's proposal, but on one condition: the monk must see to it that Mehmed died during the siege. The task would not be too difficult for a man of Gennadius's cunning. Mehmed's spies, careful as they were, would not be able to watch over the monk. And Halil would provide Gennadius with enough information to ensure his success. Once Mehmed was dead and Constantinople had fallen, it would be Halil, as grand vizier and regent, who would rule the greatest empire in all the world. He would then gladly turn over the patriarchy to Gennadius.

  His decision made, Halil burned Gennadius's letter, stamping the ashes out on the stone floor, and then took up a quill to write his coded response. He would have Isa deliver the letter to Gennadius, along with enough gold to facilitate Mehmed's death. Halil grinned wickedly to himself. How amusing, he mused, that Mehmed's dream to conquer Constantinople would actually succeed, and the success would cost the sultan his life.