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The Twisted Situation (4)

The seeds have been sown. Whether they germinate or not is up to them.

Standing at the biggest crossroads of his life, Saadet surely harbors ambitions for the Khan’s throne.

“An ambitious person wouldn’t just kill his own nephew to claim the Khanate.”

Throughout history, it was common to kill a nephew to seize the throne, and Saadet, too, killed his nephew who had just ascended to the throne six months after his older brother’s death in 1523.

The variable could be that he might hesitate and give up due to his young age.

“Even if he does back down, it doesn’t really matter to me.”

If one is going to play with fire in someone else’s house, at least one shouldn’t let the sparks fly into their own.

If Saadet chooses to spare his brother, the Crimean Khanate’s strength would be preserved, which wouldn’t be a bad outcome.

While Saadet is not fond of Mehmed, who supported Selim, he is at least capable, so using him is beneficial.

“First, solidifying control over Donbass is essential; we certainly need the Crimean Khanate’s power.”

Donbass is a region adjacent to the Sea of Azov, located in the northern Black Sea, also known as the Donetsk Basin.

It was rapidly industrialized from the late 19th century due to vast deposits of coal and iron ore.

Currently, this area has no proper towns, and it wouldn’t be until the 17th century that villages would be established to mine for salt.

“Since there are hardly any people, it’s close to unowned land; however, once development begins, the narrative can change.”

If it becomes a land that produces golden eggs, many will go mad over it, and wars could erupt from the north.

There’s no immediate pressing need for steel, and they haven’t even developed the technology to produce it in large quantities.

The most practical use of iron right now is for cannons, and the Ottomans needn’t be overly fixated on iron.

Until the 19th century, the Ottomans could make bronze, the best material for cannon production, cheaply thanks to abundant copper in Anatolia.

“Imagine how much bronze would be left over if cannons that could capsize ships were loaded onto them just by firing.”

In any case, while it may not be urgent, occupying Donbass would provide a sense of security, and it would be nice if the Crimean Khanate remains intact.

Conversely, if Mehmed, the heir of the Crimean Khanate, dies, and Saadet seizes power, that would be fine too.

Saadet will need the Ottomans’ support to maintain his regime, thus strengthening Ottoman influence within the Crimean Khanate.

The weakened strength can be supplemented by the Circassians, which have become a vassal due to past relations.

“I’m curious about what Saadet will decide. Am I right?”

“Not really. I would appreciate it if you could consider our efforts to prepare for two potential scenarios, Padishah.”

Yusuf burst into laughter at Shemsi’s lamenting words.

Typically, such words would never be uttered to a common figure, but for Shemsi, it was an exception.

They had spent time together, and some needed someone to speak like that.

“I will consider it next time.”

“Thank you. I will convey this to others as well. Everyone will be grateful for the Padishah’s consideration.”

Not wanting to brush off Shemsi’s veiled pressure, Yusuf sipped his drink.

He grimaced slightly at the sweet taste filling his mouth.

It didn’t suit someone like him who enjoyed bitter coffee, no matter how precious the beverage might be.

“Is the drink not to your liking?”

“It’s a bit so. I must say.”

“By the way, I’ve noticed that the Padishah has stopped looking for that barley drink for some time now. The one he used to sneakily drink, despite Valide Hatun’s objections.”

“Indeed.”

When was the last time he had drunk orzo, the barley coffee he was so fond of?

It wasn’t merely from getting tired of it.

“I can’t remain tied to the past forever, so I stopped drinking it.”

He sought out orzo because he couldn’t forget his modern life, and as he pledged to become Yusuf of the Ottomans, he no longer looked for it.

It was like a vow of sorts, and Shemsi looked puzzled at Yusuf’s answer but didn’t probe further.

There were lines a subordinate shouldn’t cross.

“Speaking of which, didn’t you enjoy it too?”

“I still enjoy it these days. Several other officials have learned how to make it.”

“It’s a good drink and nothing wrong with that. I shall introduce you to an even better drink later.”

Once he conquers the Mamluks, he can obtain coffee.

For people in this era who hadn’t properly experienced caffeine, just one cup would keep them alert all night.

It could be sold as a commodity, or used to boost the morale of lower-tier officials.

Though he had let go of his attachment to coffee, it was still essential.

After some casual conversation, both Yusuf and Shemsi were busy with their duties; they hadn’t gathered just to chat like this.

“By the way, what do you think of the information we’ve received from Safavid?”

“It’s not surprising that the Shah isn’t seeking Tazlu. Though he publicly declared he doesn’t doubt her purity, the damages caused by her were significant.”

“There’s a financial aspect, along with the humiliation of having lost his woman.”

Even without searching for Tazlu, there are plenty of women around Ismail.

The harem was fully stocked with women ready to fill any vacancies.

“Still, those we’ve sent are evidently performing their roles.”

The harems of both the Ottomans and Safavids are jungles.

It’s not uncommon for a favorite of the Shah to be ousted by political maneuvers or to lose their life in mysterious incidents.

Tazlu was a woman who effectively utilized her influence with the intelligence support she had received, and even without being favored, she had a firm grip within the harem.

“So, she still has some utility.”

“Precisely. The Shah won’t easily dismiss her.”

The Safavid was still barely holding together like a ragged quilt.

If Tazlu were cast aside, it could cause instability within.

Most of the information from Tabriz revolved around Tazlu and internal affairs, but there was one phrase that caught Yusuf’s eye.

“Hmm, it seems that the defeated soldiers who revolted with Shakul have had lengthy discussions with Ismail.”

“I shall send an envoy to Safavid to protest.”

“Disposing of the defeated soldiers isn’t what’s important. What’s significant is that they exchanged words with someone who has actually waged war against me.”

If not careful, the Safavid might show an interest in gunpowder ahead of history.

Considering that Ismail faced a catastrophic defeat in the Battle of Chaldiran because his nomadic cavalry crumbled against gunpowder weapons, things could become troublesome.

“I need to prepare quickly.”

Even if Ismail has opened his eyes to gunpowder, he would only be at a toddler’s level for several years, so it was necessary to eliminate Ismail as soon as possible.

There’s nothing more foolish than giving that monstrous individual ample time.

Just as Yusuf made his decision, a loud voice rang out from outside the audience chamber.

“Padishah, Kemal Reis and his fleet have returned!”

“Finally.”

The naval commander has returned.

*

“It’s been a while.”

Having arrived after a long voyage, Kemal Reis looked somber as he entered the Golden Horn.

Although the lively port seemed unchanged, the empty spaces brought to mind past nightmares.

“What are you standing there for, foolishly?”

With a rough voice, Kemal Reis turned his head and replied coldly.

“Barbarossa, do not cross the line recklessly. This is not the open sea.”

“Tch! Understood. Can’t even chat a bit, can I? Right?”

As the notorious Baba Urja, who had a bulging belly, grumbled in a way that amused the pirates around him, their laughter echoed.

“It’s been a long time since Father Urja came to the Empire; he seems to be in a good mood, so don’t speak too harshly.”

“We seafarers are supposed to help each other out, aren’t we?”

“On that note, is there anywhere to relieve myself? I feel cramped down below.”

With raucous laughter resonating and the pungent smell of blood wafting around, the soldiers near Kemal glared fiercely.

The atmosphere suggested that a clash could break out at any moment, and Kemal waved his hands.

“Enough. He may speak roughly, but he is worth respecting.”

In Spain, the Reconquista lasted for 781 years, during which Catholic kingdoms ejected Islamic forces from the Iberian Peninsula.

The Reconquista formally ended with the conquest of the Kingdom of Granada in 1492, resulting in the expulsion of Muslims and Jews from Spain.

Those expelled crossed to regions close to the Ottomans, such as Morocco and Algeria. Baba Urja gained fame for transporting these people to North Africa.

“Still, this is the capital of the Empire. It’s different from your land, so be cautious in your conduct.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve brought along plenty who know how to discriminate right from wrong. Right?!”

“Of course! I don’t want to end up with a hole in my head, so I’ll be careful!”

“Did you hear that well?”

“Yes, I heard it well.”

Though his tone was impudent, Kemal let it slide.

He respected Baba Urja and knew there must be a reason the Padishah had summoned him.

“By the way, is that your brother behind you?”

“Indeed! Hızır!”

“Yes, brother.”

The brother, with the same red beard as Kemal, walked over and greeted Kemal politely.

Kemal’s eyes brightened as he gazed upon him.

“He looks quite useful.”

“Hey! Don’t get ideas. If things go south, he has to take my place.”

“Speaking like that just makes me want him more.”

No matter how much seamen entrust half their bodies to Allah, openly labeling someone as a successor implies significant capability.

Just as Kemal’s greed was about to bubble over, sharp-eyed soldiers approached.

“Lord Kemal Reis, you are summoned by the Padishah.”

“I understand.”

Surprised, Kemal nodded when the Silahtar, who guards the Sultan, arrived to greet him.

Turning his gaze from Kemal, Silahtar addressed Baba Urja.

“And you must be Baba Urja?”

“Indeed!”

“The Padishah has commanded that you and your brother come with me.”

“Both of us?”

“Yes.”

Questioning this in disbelief, Silahtar firmly replied, turning away as if unwilling to provide further answers.

Urja nodded at his brother.

Once the Padishah commands, there’s no choice but to comply.

They had to undergo a search and even take a forced bath to meet the Padishah, but they couldn’t express their discontent.

No matter how famous they became, meeting the Padishah was a tremendous honor in itself.

After receiving simple etiquette and warnings, the three finally entered the audience chamber, where they immediately bowed to Yusuf, seated in the place of honor.

“We pay our respects to the Padishah!”

“Welcome. You may rise.”

Yusuf spoke to the three, who were so overwhelmed they couldn’t dare to meet his eyes.

“Lift your heads.”

As their faces were finally visible to Yusuf, it was easy to distinguish who was who, even though he had never met them before.

Unlike Kemal, who had a white beard, the brothers proudly flaunted their red beards.

“Kemal Reis. You have worked hard during your mission. Remain in the capital for a while and organize the army.”

“Your command will be obeyed.”

Responding with military courtesy to Yusuf’s instruction, Kemal turned his head toward the two brothers.

“Baba Urja, Hızır.”

“Yes, yes! Padishah!”

Baba Urja, who had previously been in a downtrodden mood, quickly recovered and responded. Yusuf waved his hand dismissively.

“You need not be so surprised. There’s no one here who would harm you.”

Yusuf assured Urja and examined Hızır, his brother.

While Baba Urja may represent the Barbarossa of this era, it is Hızır who would eventually achieve a far greater reputation as Barbarossa.

“The reason I summoned you is that I have a task for you.”

“A task…?”

“What task would you give a pirate?

Of course, it is pillaging.”

Yusuf gently curled his green eyes.