‘Listen,’ Parmenio snapped, leaning forwards even as Skiouros’ mouth opened in reply, ‘I have no intention of backing out now. You have no idea what we’ve been through.’
Dragi nodded his understanding as Diego also leaned in and spoke in low tones in his Spanish-accented Greek with a sour note. ‘I believe my debts to have been paid back on Crete, when I was sacrificed to the Ducal guard in order to retrieve a piece of dead flesh. But on a purely practical level, both Parmenio and I have been seen in the company of Skiouros and yourself now for days. We have been attacked by an unknown group which seems to be linked to a crusading order. There is, as they say, safety in numbers, and I fear for my own welfare if I now leave the fold in a city I hardly know, tarred with the same brush as the rest of you. No. Prudence requires my continued involvement. Whatever this is, common sense now demands that we see it through to the bitter end.’
Again, Dragi nodded, and Skiouros echoed the motion. ‘Eight more days,’ the Romani sailor said, ‘and this will be over. Whether we are face-down, mouldering in an unmarked grave, or free of troubles and able to enjoy an open life, we must now ride it out, as Diego says.’
Dragi looked at the other Romani at the table, each of whom nodded in turn.
‘Very well. There is much to tell, Skiouros, so please listen to what we say and save your questions for afterwards.’
Skiouros nodded.
‘Good.’ Dragi stretched and reached for a bowl of the hemp that he had burned on board the kadirga, lighting the end from a candle and bathing his face in the heady, wisping blue smoke.
‘There has, for some time, been a division among our people. You must be aware that Islam is every bit as riven with fractures and differences as your Christian faiths? Well, in this particular case, our focus falls on the Alevi sect. Not for their beliefs as such, but because of a vision that tore our community apart more than a decade ago. A Sayyid – a self-professed holy man who claims descent from Muhammed and holds temporal power among the Alevi Romani in Anatolia – returned from a sojourn in the wilds with an old woman he believed to speak with the voice of the prophet.’
‘Slow down,’ Diego said, his brow creasing. ‘Remember that some of us know very little of your faith, and it’s hard to see where this is going. I have enough trouble trying to work my mind around Skiouros’ church.’
Dragi inclined his head. ‘Apologies. I shall attempt to elucidate. Islam is split primarily into the Sunni and the Shi’a. Think of this as similar to your Orthodox and Catholic rift for ease. Sometimes relations between the two are good. More often they are taut or even downright hostile. We of our community here are mostly Sunni, as are the majority of the Ottoman, especially in this city. The Alevi sect that holds a small but tight minority in central Anatolia are Shi’a. Currently, the great sultan Bayezid is unusually accommodating of their sect, accepting them as equal citizens of the empire, but there are many in the court who would persuade him otherwise and it would not take much to bring about persecution of the Alevi.’
He took a deep breath. ‘It is somewhat simplifying matters, but it will ease your understanding if, in current terms, you think of the Alevi as our opposition.’
Nods all round.
‘Very well. The old woman in the desert had suffered a series of visions. One of these visions had involved a lion, a wolf and a double-headed eagle.’
Skiouros’ eyebrows rose, and Dragi nodded. ‘Precisely. In the woman’s vision, she saw the eagle atop a spur of rock, watching a titanic battle between the others. Finally, after hours of fighting, the lion tore out the throat of the wolf. And then, while the victor was too tired from his struggle to feed, the eagle killed the lion and fed from both corpses.’
Skiouros held up a finger. ‘I know you don’t want us to interrupt, but I’m seeing a parallel of the tale of the king-maker and the king-breaker there, and Diego doesn’t know that story.’
‘I will enlighten him later,’ Dragi noted. ‘The wolf is the symbol of Ottoman heredity – it is the wolf that led the first Turks to Anatolia and therefore facilitated the birth of the empire. But the wolf is also symbolic of Selim of Trabzon, and Prince Selim, while he is no overt oppressor of sects, is no lover of the Alevi and their Shi’a beliefs. He is known to have spoken against them to his father. He is hard and unyielding, as you have learned, and a future under him could be troublesome for the Alevi.’
Dragi leaned back and inhaled his smoke once more before continuing. ‘And to the Alevi, the double-headed eagle, who is Prince Korkut, is even more undesirable. His two heads – that learned poet and musician and the rabid Sunni zealot, while so disparate, are very much the same person. The Alevi sect would enter an era of hither-to unseen pain and terror under the rule of Korkut. You can, I’m sure, remember the Prince and see the truth of this?’
The four foreigners nodded their clear understanding of the matter.
‘But to them,’ Dragi went on, ‘the lion, who is clearly Prince Ahmed, governor of Amasya, is the future. The lion is also a Shi’a symbol, going back to the early days of Persia in this region. And while Ahmed has no connection to the Alevi, he is known to have counselled his father to continued lenience. So they see Ahmed as the great hope of the Alevi sect.’
‘This is all fascinating, but it doesn’t illuminate much,’ Diego interrupted, earning a hard glance from the Romani across the table. ‘If this was all over a decade ago, what is its relevance now?’
‘Can you not guess?’ the largely-toothless old Mustafa interjected in thickly-accented and somewhat troubled Greek, motioning to Skiouros, who frowned in bafflement. ‘Think on your own past,’ the old man added.
Skiouros ran through his remembered workings from that unpleasant few minutes at the Yedikule earlier and frowned. ‘The visions? The old woman in the desert? Are you suggesting that the old woman I met in the city five years ago is that same one?’
The beguiling Lela nodded. ‘The dede Babik. Heretical seeress of the Alevi in the city. She is, in fact, the only one of our opposition that we know by both sight and name. If the Alevi holy man is their mind, Babik is their heart.’
‘You see,’ Dragi took up once more, ‘a little over five years ago, our opposition contrived to scatter those of Mustafa’s people who were in useful positions to the four winds – I ended up on Crete after a run-in they arranged with a janissary officer. Somehow, with most of us out of the way, the opposition arranged to have Şehzade Ahmed mere hours from the city at Bursa, despite the fact that he should have been in Amasya, much further away. By some means they had become aware of a plot between disgruntled janissaries and foreign dignitaries to assassinate the sultan. Though they were not involved in the plot directly, they recognised that if the sultan died, the first heir to reach the palace would almost certainly ascend the throne. And so they made sure that Ahmed was there, ready. They could not afford to have one of his Alevi-hating brothers step up, you see.’
Dragi breathed in more of the hemp smoke and tipped the last of his salep past his lips.
‘And then you hoved into view, shattering the best-laid plans of conspirators and diplomats. The king-breaker had stepped onto the scene at last. You see, while to us you are the king-maker, to them you are the king-breaker, for you destroyed their hope of putting Ahmed on the throne. The Alevi mystic who leads our opposition almost exploded with rage from what I hear, and his people did whatever they could to keep the plot together. The old seer-woman Babik tried to turn you from your path, but you held fast to your destiny and stopped the assassination. I wish I had seen her face. She must have been livid!’
Skiouros shook his head in wonder. ‘Five years I have carried questions about that woman and what happened back there. And you have been there lurking in the shadows for much of that. You could have warned me.’
‘You were not ready,’ Dragi replied. ‘In some small measure, dede Babik succeeded in her secondary task. While the plot itself failed, her influence drove you from the city and into five y
ears of wandering. And while you were gone, another claimed the credit for your deeds. Had you been in the city, we would have guided you, walked you through things in just the same manner as our opposition has guided your opposite number.’
Skiouros slumped back into the chair, a look of sheer disbelief plastered across his face. As Dragi continued, he leaned forward and, despite his best intentions, opened the jug of strong wine, tipping its glutinous, oily contents into a fresh cup and sinking two mouthfuls in quick succession.
‘You see, Skiouros of Hadrianople, you were always part of this. It is not a matter of me drawing you into the affair. You have always been bound to it. I just had to reel you back in inch by inch. And now, at last, after five years, you are where you need to be, and at the time you need to be there. For the opposition are moving again.’
Skiouros favoured them with a sour look and the young hare-lipped easterner leaned in. ‘You may not appreciate being thrust into this matter, but you are not alone, king-maker. There are many among us who would love nothing more than to take matters into our own hands, guide the future of the Ottoman sultanate, and not rely upon two semi-legendary figures from an ancient fable. But the fact remains that while neither Dragi nor I – nor many others for that matter – want to weigh everything on your shoulders, it is not our decision to make. That decision was made by God and we must live with it. While you are busy feeling sorry for yourself, your opposition is busily at work, and you are finally where you need to be at the right time.’
Skiouros threw down another gulp of the unpleasant wine and winced. ‘Because your opposition are about to try a coup and put Ahmed on the throne?’
‘Precisely. He is the only future they can see that ends well for the Alevi.’
‘And you hate these Alevi so much that you will do anything to stop them?’
Dragi looked genuinely taken aback, but the intoxicating Lela leaned forward instead, her voice like velvet, with a shiver-drawing huskiness. Skiouros quickly began to worry that he might drool.
‘There are other prophecies and tales, King-maker. Many of them. Şehzade Ahmed might be the scion of choice for the Alevi, but he would be disaster in all other ways, handing over half the empire’s power to foreign nations simply for his own benefit. Korkut would be a catastrophe for all of us, and even the Alevi recognise that. But for the future, we must look ahead. We must look beyond Selim, whose reign might be a dark one, at the golden future that follows. He has a son, born this past winter to a princess of the line of the Khans. The boy is the empire’s future. It is not for Selim that we struggle, but for his heir, in accordance with what has been revealed to us.’
‘That is utterly ridiculous.’
‘Is it?’ Diego frowned, leaning across to Skiouros. ‘Study your histories, Skiouros. The greatest emperors of Rome did just that. Hadrianus adopted a successor – Antoninus – simply to hold the throne until young Marcus Aurelius came of age. Sometimes a golden future can only be built upon charred base stones.’
Skiouros sloshed wine back and forth in his mouth for a short while, and finally shook his head. ‘There are limits to what a person can ask of another. I said I would be your man until after the festival, Dragi, and I will do what you ask… within reason. But whatever you believe, I am no king maker. I am not wise or pious enough to select an heir, any more than this mysterious opposition is. I will not push Selim to the top. It is not my place to do so.’
The younger, eastern Romani narrowed his eyes. ‘I said he would be hostile,’ he sniffed in his oddly-accented Greek, thick with taints of his homeland.
‘No. I am not hostile, and I appreciate all your efforts and your concerns to bring about what you think it right. Every man should strive for what he believes to be right. But I propose a different path – a compromise. I have no desire to try and raise a man to the throne. I think that the man who deserves the throne currently occupies it anyway. Five years ago I killed a senior janissary officer to save sultan Bayezid. I am not about to conspire against him now.’
This raised a surprised nod from several of the table’s occupants.
‘But just as I cannot realistically attempt to lift a man to the throne, I cannot in good conscience sit back and let anyone else do that either. I will not champion Selim, but I will do what I can to interrupt the designs of your opposition in any attempt to bring Ahmed to power through a coup. Let the three heirs reach for the throne when their father dies, just as the laws of succession intend. Let Bayezid live to be a happy old man, and the strongest of his progeny grasp power in your traditional manner. You see, you believe that the tale of the king maker and the king breaker is a parable urging to decisive action, and so you all scrabble around trying to promote your chosen prince and impede the others. The tale is not urging you to decision-making and urgent action. It is a warning against interference. And though I have no wish to meddle in this myself, you believe that my opposite number is already at work? Then it is our task to unpick the stiches in their tapestry of plots and plans.’
‘By remaining impartial, of course, you risk the rise of Ahmed or Korkut even without the aid of the opposition,’ Lela crooned.
‘And if either of them rises to the top on their own merit, then God meant it to be,’ Skiouros replied in an uncharacteristic fit of seeming piety. ‘What do we know of the opposition and their plans, then?’
‘As you know,’ Dragi continued, ‘we only know the dede Babik for certain. The opposition are living in Sulukule in an insular community, but we have no precise details – it is dangerous to go prying into that area if you are not one of their community. We know of this so-called ‘holy-man’ who came to the city with her, but his identity is a mystery. We know the king-breaker is at work but not who he is. You see we are very much in the dark as yet. They seem to be in league with Hadim Ali Paşa, and in support of Ahmed, and beyond that they likely have their talons into other groups. They have had five years of building towards this, after all, waiting for a time when all three heirs and their father would be together at the same time and in the same place. I think we can be sure that the Knights Hospitaller are involved with them – they stand to gain a great hold in the empire if the malleable Ahmed ascends to the throne with their aid. Hadim Ali Paşa mentioned to his master that other groups, including an ancient enemy, were already with them. He must have arranged a deputation from the knights at Rhodos some time ago. And the opposition almost certainly already have people in place across the city in positions of power and influence.’
‘Why have they not done away with the other two princes already, then?’ Parmenio asked, pouring some of the wine for himself.
‘To kill one prince would put the other on his guard and make him almost impossible to get to. They will have to remove both at once, and even then only when they are ready to spring their coup. Only Ahmed is in a position to deal with his father – no matter how well-placed our opposition are, they will not be able to touch the sultan. We know that Ahmed has something planned for the day of the festival – on the 29th of the month – and the opposition will not risk interfering with that by removing the two brothers too long before then. Thus I believe we have until at least the 28th before any action is taken. One week to prevent the deaths of two princes and the instigation of a coup against the sultan.’
Skiouros sighed. ‘From what you’ve said, and from what we heard from him, it seems unlikely that Şehzade Ahmed will risk the coup unless he is in an unassailable position. If we keep Korkut and Selim in the running, he has no reason to continue with a coup, and the sultan will likely remain safe.’ He mused, tapping his chin. ‘Though if we can identify a key figure in their scheme, we might be able to undo that likelihood, too. Do you think this nebulous enemy will already have people in place to remove the princes when the time comes?’
‘Almost certainly.’
Skiouros nodded and rubbed his hands together. ‘Then that must be the priority. Identify and remove those who have infiltrated the courts of
Korkut and Selim, thereby saving both from being killed and foiling your opposition’s plot. Ahmed is clearly in no danger from them, and I will have nothing to do with removing him from position, so we can ignore him for now. Where are the other princes staying prior to the festival?’
The woman Lela cleared her throat again, drawing all eyes at the table.
‘Selim is in Tekfur Sarayi – the Porphyrogenitus palace atop this hill. It is a walled compound with solid defences, and he has a small army with him and trusts only his own people. Getting into that place will be almost impossible. They do say that old tunnels in the ruins lead to the palace, but we have never been able to verify the reality of this. Korkut is less paranoid, though equally well defended. He is residing in Eski Sarayi – the old palace – near the janissary barracks at the heart of the city. Proximity to that last structure might create its own problems, of course.’
‘Korkut sounds like the easier of the two propositions, regardless of the janissaries.’
Dragi shook his head. ‘Selim must be our priority.’
‘I said I would prevent interference, Dragi, not concentrate on your favourite candidate. If Korkut is the easier to get to, then we deal with him first, with the added benefit that we might unravel more of what we do not yet understand in the process. Can you get someone into the old palace with a legitimate reason for an indefinite period?’
The young easterner nodded his head. ‘I believe so. It will be you?’
Skiouros sighed. ‘I suspect it will. I cannot see Diego or Parmenio blending in well and any number of lesser posts somewhere like that will be filled with servants who were taken from Greek regions in the devsirme. I can blend in at court like no one else here. The other, entirely separate, problem we have is that we appear to know very little about the enemy. You believe that someone moves with them – my opposite number?’
Pasha's Tale Page 15
