Rebellion and Opportunity (3)

The journey from Trabzon to Ankara was smooth.

Disrupting a march of an army numbering ten thousand was tantamount to asking for death, so it was only natural.

In fact, it was somewhat exhausting to deal with people arriving laden with gifts just to catch a glimpse of my face.

Interestingly, those like the village chief or tribal leader didn’t seem to have come with any ulterior motives but rather out of sheer curiosity.

‘It means they have no shortage, given the recognition of their autonomy.’

As it had always been, their power remained unshaken, and they seemed indifferent to who the next Sultan would be.

Yusuf had no intention of letting the current state of affairs continue.

‘If I become the Sultan, I’ll have to reform the administrative divisions and tax system.’

He had no intention of leaving things as loose as they were now, with weakened local control.

Considering the potential backlash, it was a mid-to-long-term goal.

Except for having to host quite a few guests, Yusuf arrived near Ankara after a smooth journey and spotted the central army, which had already established a stronghold.

“The elite are indeed elite, aren’t they?”

“It seems so,” Ardah agreed to Yusuf’s laid-back remark.

One could tell how well-trained the troops were without even watching them fight.

Despite being identified as allies, they remained vigilant, ready to engage in battle at a moment’s notice once orders were given.

These were traits of Janissaries that had undergone at least six years of training, and appeared even better than the Kapukulu Cavalry.

‘Though I’ll have to face off against the princes, perhaps it’s fortunate to be in this era.’

Had he been born a prince one hundred and fifty years later, he would have been involved in mafia-like activities, fighting Janissaries while pulling each other’s hair in a palace known as a cage, just waiting for the next Sultan to ascend.

This current era was a hundred times better.

As those thoughts crossed his mind, an elderly man approached, walking with heavy security and casually showing respect.

“I am honored to meet Prince Yusuf.”

One could feel a lot from his demeanor.

While formally, the prince held a higher status, the Grand Vizier was the second-in-command in administration.

There was no reason for such excessive courtesy unless—

‘Unless he’s not the heir to become the next Sultan.’

Yusuf smiled lightly.

“It’s been a while since my last visit to the capital, Grand Vizier. I believe we have much to discuss.”

“Please, come inside.”

As they entered the stronghold, numerous soldiers brushed past them, and one could easily feel the camaraderie they shared.

It was the result of choosing Trabzon to earn military merits.

When they entered the larger-than-average command tent, the Grand Vizier and Yusuf made their way inside, while Ardah stood at the entrance, naturally holding her position.

Once it was just the two of them, Yusuf asked directly.

“What are your thoughts on our father’s plans?”

“…As you might have sensed, the Padishah is now considering stepping down.”

Letting go of what one held in hand was usually not a simple decision, and Yusuf asked with a wearied gaze.

“Then, you have solidified your resolve concerning my brothers?”

“The Padishah has left me with words about that.”

“Speak.”

The Grand Vizier took a breath and relayed the Padishah’s message.

“He wishes that if the two princes do not interfere, their lives should be spared.”

Currently, there were three brothers alive besides Yusuf, yet the rebellious Şehinşah could not be left alive.

Those two referred to Selim and Ahmed, and normally, it would be an unforgivable request.

‘There’s a reason brother-killing laws exist.’

There was no need to leave behind potential threats to the regime.

“Father often displays a generous side towards his sons.”

Bayezid II, who even had assassination suspicions surrounding Mehmet II, still had moments when he acted fatherly.

There was no need to dwell on the original history; just look at himself, who had benefitted significantly from the Sultan’s support.

Let alone the monetary assistance.

“Considering how he turned a blind eye to the gunpowder issue, perhaps showing kindness to him at least once wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

“…Did you know?”

“All the individuals involved in selling gunpowder to me were executed, how could I not?”

Diverting gunpowder was a serious matter, but since the Sultan had turned a blind eye to it, it wouldn’t hurt to heed his request this once.

Of course, the reason he easily accepted this proposal was different.

Yusuf chuckled and asked, “Do you truly believe the two brothers will sit quietly?”

No way.

The life goal of an Ottoman prince was to become Sultan, and it was obvious they would struggle.

The Grand Vizier understood how meaningless such promises were and sighed heavily.

“If Allah watches over us, it may be possible?”

“Then if my brothers make a move, we can assume Allah has forsaken them. At that point, there’d be no need for hesitation.”

“…Then, do as you wish, Prince.”

Having received the response he desired, Yusuf changed the subject.

“Now let’s move on to practical matters.”

Having deemed their previous discussions useless, Yusuf, with a gentle smile, asked the Grand Vizier.

“So, did you bring ample gunpowder with you?”

Good things are best shared.

*

Upon receiving reports that Yusuf’s army and the central forces had begun to move south, Ahmed smirked coldly.

“Move south. My foolish brother has made a rash choice.”

To Ahmed, the worst-case scenario was if Yusuf, having joined forces with the central army, persuaded the Grand Vizier to head to the capital.

He had troops gathered in Bolu where the eldest Murad was located, but it wouldn’t delay matters adequately.

While convincing the Grand Vizier to follow the Sultan’s orders was difficult, he would have gone to the capital on his own.

As he derided Yusuf’s foolishness, Ahmed addressed his gathered subordinates.

“My younger brother, who believes he has been chosen by our father, has given me an opportunity. Surely, this must be the grace of Allah upon me!”

“Yes!”

When word reached Yusuf that Ahmed was mobilizing his forces, he thought it would be close to the timeframe when the rebels would approach.

Even trying to retreat in anxiety would be too late, and even if he attempted to redirect his army, it would be challenging to catch up in time.

Delighted by how smoothly things were proceeding according to his plans, Ahmed wore a broad smile.

“It’s been a while since I last saw my father.”

Having already completed preparations for deployment, Ahmed felt no need to waste any more time.

He could never know when Selim would come down from the Crimean Khanate after hearing the news.

Standing up, Ahmed commanded, “Let’s set out!”

As he watched his subordinates scatter, Ahmed closed his eyes for a moment.

Feeling a surge of resentment towards his father for choosing Yusuf over him, he opened his eyes.

“Father, you will surely regret this.”

His words were laced with deadly intent.

*

Though ten thousand soldiers had departed, Trabzon was bustling with troops from the Circassian and Georgian regions.

Currently, there weren’t enough forces in Trabzon to control them, and it was even more dangerous when soldiers from other countries were stationed there.

If they were to turn against them, it wouldn’t be surprising for Trabzon to burn to the ground.

However, even after Yusuf led his troops away, controlling the situation hadn’t been terribly difficult, with Aishe playing a significant role.

“I apologize for relying on you during such a crucial time.”

“It’s fine, Pasha. I’m just glad I could help in any way.”

Aishe had been active in Circassia for some time, yet she was far from forgotten, being referred to as a saint.

In fact, as Yusuf began to make a name for himself in the Ottoman Empire, rumors regarding Aishe spread again, her reputation soaring to incredible heights.

The Circassian troops would play dead if Aishe asked them, clearly not daring to act against her in Georgia, either.

They wouldn’t want to offend Yusuf, who was considered the next Sultan.

“There shouldn’t be any more hardship for you. It’s now time for action.”

The distance between Trabzon and Amasya was 380km, but with temporary relay stations set up for today, messages could be exchanged within two days.

Receiving word from Amasya that Ahmed had set out made Şems feel a long-forgotten sense of tension.

Even though it was merely a matter of following after Ahmed’s army, the weight of the situation was palpable.

“I cannot assist any further.”

Though she wished to accompany him, it was utterly impossible in her current pregnant state.

“You don’t need to worry about what comes next. His Highness has planned everything.”

“In that case, it shall go well.”

The two shared those words sincerely, fully trusting Yusuf.

Ahmed’s mobilized forces numbered thirteen thousand, and if additional troops joined in, they could swell to fifteen thousand.

Considering Yusuf’s forces were ten thousand exclusive of support from Georgia and Circassia, that was a number that couldn’t be overlooked.

‘Especially since it’s mainly composed of cavalry, it would deal significant damage in battle.’

Though he wasn’t underestimating Georgia or Circassia, the quality of troops was definitely inferior compared to the cavalry.

Even just looking at their armaments was embarrassing in comparison.

However, since he was only planning to tail them and not engage in battle, it was no problem at all.

“Well then, I’ll head toward the capital first.”

The hidden forces in Trabzon began to move in earnest.

*

Understanding someone you’ve never met before is a difficult task, and even considering that, Yusuf found it hard to comprehend Şehinşah’s rebellion.

If Şehinşah truly desired the Sultan’s throne, he should have led his troops toward the capital rather than spewing nonsense about being the Sultan of Anatolia.

At a minimum, he should have moved to eliminate the other princes.

Şehinşah’s actions were incomprehensible and still remained so.

“A battle in the plains? I just can’t fathom what he’s thinking.”

For Şehinşah, conducting a siege battle would give him a better chance of winning, yet he brought his entire force out to the plains.

In response to Yusuf’s remarks, Ardah answered.

“Perhaps he trusted in the forces he joined with Shakul?”

The opposing forces had reached twenty thousand.

In southern Anatolia, there were many Turkmens harboring grievances against Bayezid, and it was unsurprising they had swelled to this size.

“I can understand Shakul’s actions; he needs greater renown.”

Shakul aimed to establish his own dynasty just as Ismail did when he led a rebellion.

Ideally, Shakul would need to kill the Beylerbey Karaoglu to achieve more renown, but that glory had been snatched by Şehinşah.

It was only natural he’d want to make a name for himself in this battle, but Şehinşah didn’t have to comply with Shakul’s wishes.

They were, in essence, pursuing different dreams here.

“Well, I suppose I can just ask him directly.”

Victory was already decided, so there was no need to think too hard about it.

Thinking thus, Yusuf was handed a note by a soldier who rushed over with a worried expression. After reading it, Yusuf said to the Grand Vizier, “In the end, my brother has mobilized his army.”

“…Will you turn your forces back now? I will do my utmost to handle things here.”

At the Grand Vizier’s suggestion, Yusuf shook his head.

“There’s no need for you to worry so much. Brother Ahmed is under a great misunderstanding.”

“What misunderstanding?”

At the Grand Vizier’s inquiry, Yusuf smiled broadly and replied.

“The delusion that he can cross the Bosporus Strait to reach the capital. He will never be able to cross that strait.”

That much was ensured.

From now on, Ahmed would be like a rat trapped in a cage.