by Mika Waltari
The same evening, therefore, I sought out Abu el-Kasim, since Andy was outside the city directing the fortifications. Abu had bought himself a pleasant house with a walled garden and had so far overcome his avarice as to furnish it richly and buy a flock of slaves to wait upon his wife and son. Looking at him now it was easy to forget that he was nothing but a petty merchant who had made his fortune by adulterating drugs and inventing new names for age-old ointments.
Like a proud father he led the splendidly dressed Kasim forward to greet me, and seemed to imagine I had forgotten that the boy was not his son. Contrary to Moslem custom he allowed his Russian wife to approach me with only a thin veil over her face, hoping to elicit my admiration for her gorgeous clothes and jewels, beside which he looked like a gray spider.
Having sent wife and son back to the harem, Abu el-Kasim offered me wine and said in a worried tone, “Khaireddin’s janissaries and renegades are perhaps not the best shepherds in the world, and their manner of fleecing their sheep has aroused much discontent among the inhabitants of Tunis-above all among the old Arab families who under Tunisian sultans were members of the Divan and could manage the city as they pleased. A month or so ago a Spanish merchant arrived here. He seems to have no notion of the nature or value of his wares, and sells the most precious of them to chosen customers for a mere song in the hope of winning their favor. He sells spices and even perfumes without the least reference to the prices agreed upon among the merchants here, so you may judge of my indignation when I heard of him.”
Abu el-Kasim assumed an injured air and looked sideways at me as he sipped his wine.
“This Spaniard has in his service a Christian Moor who is far too much inclined to wander about after dark-not with sighs and a rose in his hand, but on visits to Muley-Hassan’s warmest adherents and other malcontents. From sheer curiosity I have had these two men shadowed and several times the Spaniard has openly visited the kasbah and offered merchandise to no less a man than Khaireddin. Not only that, but Khaireddin has had lengthy conversations with him in private. I’m prepared to wager that the foreigner is an Imperial agent and probably a Spanish nobleman, since he behaves so foolishly and has a Christian Moor for a servant.”
We talked far into the night, and next morning I betook myself to the harbor and went aboard the Spaniard’s ship on the pretext of buying a good Venetian hand mirror. When the Moorish servant informed his master that a wealthy and distinguished customer had arrived, the Spaniard hurried up on deck and greeted me with marked respect. From his features, hands, and bearing I saw at once that he had never grown up among drugs. He soon led the conversation round to world affairs, and when I told him that I had just arrived from the Seraglio in Istanbul to enter Khaireddin’s service, he displayed great eagerness to learn the latest news. I told him truthfully of the unrest in the Seraglio and of the suspicions concerning Grand Vizier Ibrahim, and of how, despite the capture of Bagdad, no one believed in a happy outcome to the war in Persia.
At this point in my narrative I abandoned truth for fiction and remarked that I had felt the time ripe for seeking a new master since no man, however perfect his integrity, could hope to escape the Grand Vizier’s morbid suspicions. From my complaints the Spaniard judged me to have committed some misdemeanor and escaped to Tunis beyond the reach of Ibrahim’s wrath. He at once invited me into his luxuriously appointed stateroom and asked me where I was born and how I had come to take the turban. As if in passing he mentioned that the Pope, on the Emperor’s recommendation, had recently permitted certain eminent renegades to be received again into the bosom of the Church. Because of the great services they had rendered the Emperor he had even pardoned them their falling away, without asking too many awkward questions.
Few words were needed, therefore, to bring us into perfect understanding, and the Spaniard now confided that his name was Luis de Presandes, that he had been born in Genoa, belonged to Charles’s personal suite, and enjoyed his full confidence in all the complicated affairs that were commonly placed in his hands. Charles was shortly to sail for Tunis with the mightiest navy ever seen. The patriotic inhabitants were ready to rise when the time came and support the Emperor, having had enough of the Turkish reign of terror; they longed for the noble Muley-Hassan, their rightful sultan. The wise man must trim his sails to the veering wind, and all the world knew the Emperor to be a just ruler; he would not forget any man who sincerely repented of past errors and now did his part for the good cause. But fearful would be the punishment for any renegade who persisted in denying his faith and serving the Turks.
In such words as these he sought both to lure and to frighten me, and in the name of Christ and His mother he exhorted me to recall the faith of my childhood, return to the Christian fellowship, and so win pardon for my grievous sin. He wept as he spoke and I too shed tears, being tenderhearted and ever susceptible to beautiful words. Nevertheless I would make no promises, nor would I accept the earnest money he offered me, for through Andy I had conceived the greatest respect for the articles of war and the binding nature of such payments. Yet we parted like bosom friends, and I promised to think over his proposal. I furthermore swore by Cross and Koran never to breathe a word of what he had said.
This oath put me in an awkward position, but his own missionary zeal inspired me with an idea. After only two days Abu el-Kasim succeeded in persuading Master Presandes’s Moorish servant to remember with a contrite heart the Moslem faith of his forefathers and, in terror of the hideous punishment that awaited apostates, disclose his master’s plots. Without breaking my promise I could thus confront Khaireddin and say, “What has the Kapudan-pasha of the High Porte to do with the secret emissary of the Emperor? What is in your mind, Khaireddin? Do you really believe the Grand Vizier’s arm is too short to reach you, even from Persia?”
Khaireddin was much startled and began hastily to defend himself. “The noble Presandes is the Emperor’s plenipotentiary and thus enjoys diplomatic immunity. I’ve kept him dangling only to gain time for completing the defenses of Tunis, and could not receive him openly without arousing suspicion among the Grand Vizier’s agents.
That is the whole truth, Michael, and I beg you won’t misinterpret my perfecdy innocent actions.”
He stroked his beard uneasily, and his whole appearance betrayed fear and a guilty conscience. But I disclosed the Spaniard’s secret plan for inciting the inhabitants of Tunis to armed revolt, to coincide with the Emperor’s arrival, and also handed him a list, given me by the Moor, of dependable sheiks and merchants recommended to Presandes by Muley-Hassan’s envoy in Madrid. Khaireddin’s face darkened; he tore his beard in rage, and with a roar that shook the walls of the kasbah he said, “That hound of an unbeliever has betrayed me! He showed me the Emperor’s written instructions by which he was authorized to offer me the independent sovereignty of Algeria, Tunis, and other cities, on condition I left the Sultan’s service. I have not the smallest intention of leaving the Sultan, to whose favor I owe my high position. But all favors are precarious. Therefore I thought I should lose nothing by conversing with Presandes and profiting by the Emperor’s generous terms. But the Emperor is clearly falser than I could have believed, and never again will I put my faith in Christian oaths.”
I realized from this agitated confession that the Spaniard was not quite so simple and inexperienced as I had thought. On the contrary, he had secured his position and fancied that Khaireddin would let him go even were someone to denounce him. Khaireddin, he thought, would laugh up his sleeve at such a denunciation, believing himself to know more of the Spaniard’s business in Tunis than anyone. Now, however, Khaireddin had him arrested at once. In a secret hiding place aboard his vessel another of the Emperor’s instructions was found, clearly demonstrating the deceit and treachery of his negotiations. Despite Master de Presandes’s loudly repeated claims to diplomatic immunity, the sword fell; his protests were silenced forever.
Being now fully aware of Khaireddin’s irresolute and vacillating
nature I made ready to leave Tunis, as I had a dislike of violence and bloodshed. But precious time slipped away unnoticed, storms and bad weather hindered my departure, Abu el-Kasim’s hospitality enticed me evening after evening, and above all I hoped to see Andy before my departure, to persuade him to return with me to Istanbul. Not until I met him barefoot, ragged, and dirty in the courtyard of the kasbah did I learn that Khaireddin had never told him of my coming, and indeed had sought on various pretexts to keep us apart. This was understandable enough, for like a prudent general Khaireddin was unwilling to lose a good master gunner just before the outbreak of war. We embraced one another joyfully and Andy exclaimed, “I’ve had enough of this place. Khaireddin made me a laughingstock in the eyes of all decent gunners last winter, when we were fighting Berbers and Arabs in the desert. He made me rig sails to our cannon, and of course they were of some help on level ground with a following wind. But when I saw my honest guns flying along like so many drabs with lifted petticoats I was ashamed. But Khaireddin just laughed and bent on larger sails, and I can never quite forgive him for the disgrace. I much doubt whether he is capable of land fighting. And then the savage treatment of Christian slaves has cut me to the heart, so I shall be more than glad to come back with you to Istanbul.”
Andy now looked like a Greek monk or some pious dervish. He had let his beard grow till it stood out round his face like a jungle, and I felt it was time to take him in hand before he turned quite queer in the head. But he said, “At heart I’ve always been a good-natured fellow. My losses and sorrows have led me to understand people better than before, and I cannot see why we must be forever hurting one another. If you had seen how the renegades and janissaries treated the captive Italian boys and women-I can’t believe that the purpose of this life is witless destruction and slaughter. Brooding over these things has given me headaches that the African sun does nothing to cure. So now I punish my body for all its misdeeds by fasting, and letting the sun scorch my back.”
I seized him by the arm to lead him quickly to the baths and thence to Abu el-Kasim’s house to dress him in proper clothes. But at the gate of the kasbah Andy remembered something, and with a strange look at me he said, “I have something to show you.”
He led me past the stables to the middens, and there gave a whistle. A ragged seven-year-old boy crept from his hiding place and greeted him with a yelp of pleasure, just as a dog welcomes its master. The boy had a red velvet cap upon his head but his eyes were almost closed, so swollen were they by the bites of flies. His arms and legs were thin and crooked, and his dull expression showed him to be feeble minded. Nevertheless Andy took him and tossed him into the air until he howled with delight, then gave him a piece of bread and a bunch of onions from the wallet at his girdle. At length he said to me, “Give him an asper! But it must be newly minted and shiny.”
I did so, in the name of the Compassionate. The boy looked at Andy, who nodded, then disappeared behind the heaps of garbage. He soon returned and after another glance at Andy he gave me in return a dirty pebble. I took it to please him, and pretended to put it in my purse. Then wearying of the game I urged Andy to come away. He patted the boy on the head, nodded to him, and came. As we walked he spoke in a low voice as if to himself, telling how he had rescued the boy from the janissaries at the time of the capture of the kasbah, and given him into the care of the grooms. Thrusting his hand into his wallet he drew out a handful of dirty little pebbles like the one the boy had given me. They were about the size of a finger tip. Showing them to me he remarked, “He’s not ungrateful. Every time I bring him food he gives me one of these, and he will give me as many as I like for really shiny aspers.”
I now began to feel grave fears for Andy’s reason, and said, “Dear Andy, you must have a touch of the sun! You don’t mean you exchange silver aspers for the rubbish that boy gives you, and keep it in your purse?”
I was about to throw away the stone that I’d been given, as the fowl droppings that stuck to it dirtied my fingers. But Andy held my arm urgently and said, “Spit on the stone and rub it on your sleeve!”
I had no wish to soil my fine kaftan, yet I did as he asked, and when I had rubbed the stone it began to shine like a piece of polished glass. A queer thrill ran through me, though I dared not believe I held a jewel in my hand. One of that size would have been worth many thousand ducats.
“Just a piece of glass,” I said doubtfully.
“So I thought. But I happened to show the smallest of these stones to a trustworthy Jew in the bazaar, and he at once offered me fifty ducats for it. This showed me that it was worth at least five hundred, and I put it away again. I laugh sometimes to think what an enormous fortune is rattling about in my purse.”
I still found it hard to believe him until suddenly I remembered the boy’s red velvet cap. I clapped my hand to my forehead and cried, “Allah is indeed merciful! That idiot boy no doubt had time to ransack the empty rooms of the kasbah before it was captured, and found Muley-Hassan’s velvet bag which he left behind in his haste.”
I told Andy what the Jewish merchant in Istanbul had confided to me, and suggested that we should return to the boy at once and get the rest of the two hundred from him. Andy said, “It won’t do, for the boy never parts with more than one or two at a time. He’s as cunning as a fox, for all his idiocy, and though I’ve spied upon him once or twice I have never been able to find his hiding place.”
“The matter is somewhat complicated,” I said, “and must be carefully considered. The diamonds being Muley-Hassan’s property form part of Khaireddin’s spoils of war; that’s to say they belong to the Sultan. We should get little reward for finding them; indeed they would only seek to extort the rest of the two hundred stones and suspect us of dishonesty if we were simple enough to hand over no more than those that by the grace of Allah have fallen into our hands. Yet we should be mad to leave the rest of this great fortune lying in the dirt.”
Such was also Andy’s opinion. We dared not breathe a word to anyone of our discovery, but postponed our journey from day to day. Every time we visited the boy he gave us two or three stones, for which we dared not offer more than one asper each, lest the sums he received should attract attention. However, I spoke to the Imam of Jamin’s mosque and left with him a sum sufficient for the support and schooling of the boy. If his intellect proved inadequate for reading and writing he was to be trained in some handicraft by which he could earn his living.
At the end of June, when we had collected one hundred and ninety- seven stones, the boy sadly showed us his empty hands, and though we visited him several times afterward, pleading and threatening, it was clear that either he had lost the three remaining stones or that Muley- Hassan had counted them wrongly. We then washed the boy, dressed him in good clothes, and led him to the Imam of the mosque, though he struggled and resisted with all his strength and would not be quieted even by Andy’s kindly words. Having thus salved our consciences we bade a hasty farewell to Abu el-Kasim, meaning to make for the harbor and take ship for Istanbul.
A distant boom froze us to the spot, and soon flocks of terrified fugitives were streaming into the city shrieking that the Emperor’s fleet had appeared before the fortress of La Goletta. The harbor was thus blockaded, and under cover of the unceasing cannonade the Spaniards landed many troops. My own greed had trapped me. I blamed myself bitterly for not having been content with fewer stones, so that I might have sailed from Tunis while there was yet time.
It was small comfort to learn that the Emperor had arrived at least a fortnight before he was expected, and now held the greater part of Khaireddin’s fleet trapped and helpless within the blockaded harbor. Only fifteen of his lightest galleys were able to seek shelter at other points along the coast.
We hastened to La Goletta to discover how true these reports were, and whether we might yet run the blockade in one of Khaireddin’s vessels. But from the tower we beheld the enemy fleet of not less than three hundred sail spread over the waters as
far as the eye could see. Only a cannon-shot away, a large group of German pikemen were pouring ashore, and these at once began to throw up ramparts and palisades to protect their beachhead. To prevent Khaireddin’s fleet from breaking out, the great galleys of the Knights of St. John lay in the forefront; behind them I beheld the terrible carrack that like a floating hill rose high above the other vessels. From its four rows of gaping gun ports protruded the dark mouth of cannon. Doria’s slender war galleys, the sturdy caravels of Portugal, and Neapolitan galleasses covered the calm surface of the sea, and in the midst of them all rode the Emperor’s mighty flagship with its four banks of oars and its gilded pavilion gleaming on the high poop deck.
To Khaireddin’s credit be it said that the hour of danger brought out the best in him. Forgotten was his empty boasting; his bearing was assured, he drew in his belly, and in thunderous tones issued the necessary orders. The command of the Goletta fortress he entrusted to Sinan the Jew with six thousand picked janissaries-almost too large a garrison to be crammed into tower and fortifications. He sent Arabian and Moorish cavalry to oppose the landings and gain time. They could not prevent them, but they could at least keep the Imperial troops on the defensive both day and night.
Not until the camp had been strongly fortified did the invaders mount their guns and open the bombardment of La Goletta, and after this the cavalry dared not venture within range. And now the incessant, appalling din of artillery fire made life within the fort so unendurable that I left Andy on the battlements to watch with joyful wonder the progress of the conflict, and returned in deep dejection to Tunis.
