《Love Of Baybur [Participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge]》


 Chapter 1-The Feast

    A battered carriage of simple looks rode behind two mules in a dirt road.


    There was not much to discuss about the road, mules, or the carriage; except that they were all hidden in the dark sky and battering drops of rain forced their way into each with ferocity. The driver at the front of the carriage pulled the straps of the mules tighter, lest they slipped from his numbed hands and they went astray into a slimy marsh to their doom. His straw hat above the linen shirt¡¯s collars tried hard to defend his eyes from the onslaught of cold water, and even though they were barred from contact with his body the chill wasn¡¯t something he was accustomed to.


    Over the road, slapping the mules and yelling for them to move faster, the driver saw a few dents and wheel marks on the softened road. His eyes gleamed and the speed he whipped the animals hastened. Soon a few planks of signs came to his view, two pointing east and one right on their path to the north. He tilted his head to the wooden block behind him, freed one hand from the ropes to open it and peek inside.


    ¡®¡¯Mister, we are near caravansary Feathertail. What would you like to do?¡¯¡¯


    Inside the carriage lit by dim moonlight, the figure of the passenger grasped his chin with a hand. He had a yet unshaven stubble over his cheeks and around his lips. For a moment he pondered, the thundering clouds¡¯ tremor boomed toward them.


    ¡®¡¯Let us stop there, the storm might stop near the dawn.¡¯¡¯


    The driver nodded and closed the wooden block behind, then let out a sigh of relief.


    ¡®¡¯DEH! DEH!¡¯¡¯ He yelled to the mules and they sprang forward with much more power, trampling the dirt beneath their horseshoes.


    *********


    Half an hour passed and the thunderstorm was as fierce as ever.


    Baybur listened to the drops of rain clattering to the walls of his crumbling carriage. It was old and dusty when they took out, the maintenance wasn¡¯t done regularly. That wasn¡¯t a fault of his, for the amount of time he needed to travel three or four days¡¯ time worth road could be counted with a single hand. And their estate was both faraway from the Western capital and too unimportant for anything requiring admittance of himself. This was an exception, though.


    The Sultan is hasty with the banquet, he thought, touching strands of blonde hair to feel the chilling cold. He was lucky that his sister forced him to wear a fur cloak and an undergarment of the same kind. It was itchy, but at least his chest wasn''t as cold as his forehead was.


    I¡¯m lucky she didn¡¯t want to come, Baybur nodded to himself, tracing the few light wounds over his pinky and ring fingers. Or many would try to take her hand.


    Though they would do with or without her presence, as women hardly had a choice in their marriage, with her absence he could spew any excuse and delay the matter. But how long a yerliyya can delay? These are pashas and aghas, Baybur, they are far above you. It was moments like these that reminded Baybur how dangerous gaining the grace of a Sultan was.


    Baybur closed his eyes, standing still. From the tremblings of the carriage and the new sounds approaching; Mutters, dogs¡¯ barking, a few dozen orderly footsteps, Baybur guessed they had reached their destination. No sooner the thought came, he heard the mules in front screech. Their piercing wail sent a shiver down his spine, then a gasp from the front and a violent shake. A fierce tremor passed through the carriage and it came to an abrupt halt. Baybur rose from his seat into the air and his head crashed on the ceiling.


    THUD!


    ¡®¡¯Ah!¡¯¡¯ He fell down instantly to the ground and grasped his throbbing head. A trace of swollen red appeared on his forehead, and a drop of blood slid down near his cheeks, then fell on the red gown over his shoulders. ¡®¡¯Driver!¡¯¡¯ He shouted, rushing to his feet, and pushed the door open. His eyes glazed to the front, then widened.


    There were two men standing at the front, holding the sorry figure of the driver and pulling him out of a wide pit of mud. The few pedestrians on the way looked alarmed, a woman amidst them started shouting.


    ¡®¡¯Aaah! Help! The man is dying! Are there no souls to help!?¡¯¡¯


    Baybur turned around, grasped his cloak seated on the ground and put it over his shoulders. He rushed out and with a few steps approached the men, now numbering in four, and took hold of the driver¡¯s torso to raise. They pulled once, then twice, and the driver was out of the mud and now on their arms. Baybur held the driver from the shoulders and glanced at the pool of blood under the carriage, and at the broken legs of the mules. There was a pit almost as wide as the carriage itself where they came to a halt. Soon, with the support of the rain, the blood started filling the hole.


    ¡®¡¯Those ungrateful harlots!¡¯¡¯ A man shouted, slapping his chest. ¡®¡¯Ungrateful bastards! If I find those brats, I¡¯ll whip their foot till they spew blood.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Brother!¡¯¡¯ Baybur called out to the driver, the man didn¡¯t respond. His right arm was bent backward, and he had a huge gash over his eyebrows. Blood trickled down. ¡®¡¯Brothers, are there any physician or medicine man here?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯There is,¡¯¡¯ One said, then pointed at one. ¡¯¡¯Come, let¡¯s call for the physician.¡¯¡¯ He said, the other followed. The two with Baybur looked for a moment, then sprang forward. One went to the block of houses next to the door and started knocking on the doors, asking for help. The other grasped the legs of the driver and held him up to help Baybur. The rain intensified at the moment, and the knockings became inaudible at some point.


    ¡®¡¯Brother, come!¡¯¡¯ The man said at last, standing in front of a house, with him another man in a white trousers and green gown, a kaftan to be precise, over a shirt. They hurried over, scrambling on the mud road, and went inside with the lead of the house owner. The other stood by the door to spot the physician when he came.


    The inside of the house was lit by candles, placed on iron boards nailed to the walls. They passed through two rooms, one the kitchen and the other a living room with lily embroidered carpets and soft seating cushions. The house owner hurried to another room at the back for a moment and returned with a blanket, which he laid down on the carpets.


    Baybur and the man put the driver with care to the ground, house owner also put an old pillow under his head, and then all three sighed for the moment of calm.


    ¡®¡¯Thank you, brothers,¡¯¡¯ Baybur took his cloak off and laid it on the old driver, then sat by him to face the house owner. ¡®¡¯My apologies for the trouble.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t mention it, brother.¡¯¡¯ House owner said, glancing at his attire.


    The other did the same and smiled. ¡®¡¯How could we not help a soldier in need? It must be tough enough to go battles and not have a family.¡¯¡¯


    Baybur sighed and looked down at himself. The classic outfit of a janissary was easily recognizable here. Baggy trousers, a shirt, over it a long red coat tied to his waist with a sash. His yatagan and purses were also tied to this belt with sheath and ropes, and were it not for the absence of his headgear for sure he would be recognized instantly rather than now. But that was what made him appreciate these people now, Baybur thought. They acted without thinking who he or the driver was at first, as if the only important thing was them being humans. He didn¡¯t even have the long mustache of the house owner or the thrifty beards of the other men.


    He was not of their lineage, or their blood, or their race, but of the enemy realm¡¯s people. The Sultanate¡¯s army, janissaries, comprised of people like him, who were not of the Sultanate¡¯s original people but of the invaded territories families. This was, perhaps, to ensure that no corruption from familial ties would occur, or simply because they didn¡¯t wish to spend their own population in wars. This didn¡¯t mean janissaries were of no importance, however. The years of funds and training spent for their sake were tremendous, and each of their tutors; from martial arts, religion, culture, music, and archery, taught them with the care of a family. And they also had families, foster families of the Sultanate¡¯s people, who treated them like they were their own sons. His sister was included in that family.


    ¡®¡¯I have a family, brother,¡¯¡¯ He said, then slightly smiled. The other two blinked, then smiles crept over their faces as well. Baybur looked at the house owner. ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t you have one, brother? The house seems to big for a lone man to live.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯My wife and my daughter are at their uncle¡¯s place, were they not I would have them make some coffee.¡¯¡¯ The house owner said.


    ¡®¡¯And you, brother?¡¯¡¯ Baybur asked the other.


    ¡®¡¯I¡¯m not married, but I have an elderly father to take care of.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯A father...¡¯¡¯ Baybur muttered, gazing down at his hands. Years of archery and swinging sword had caused them to grow rough and coarse aside a burnt piece of flesh in the middle of his right palm. He couldn¡¯t count how many times they turned stiff or numb or bloody. But he could remember how much his father¡¯s did.


    Was he nine at that time? His father had...


    *********


    A fire crackled in front of his eyes.


    Baybur laid his back to a chair, a blanket over his legs, and gazed into the blazing flames. The smoke rising from the burning shadows disappeared into the air from the chimney. On the chair behind him sat his mother, knitting a new scarf for him and his father. Winter was on the horizon, after all, and if his father stopped going to the woods, they would have no income to feed on.


    ¡®¡¯Dear-¡¯¡¯ His mother called, rubbing one of her cloaked legs to his side, awakening him. He blinked, then turned his head to glance at her. ¡®¡¯It is midnight, dear, why don¡¯t you go to sleep?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I want to sleep by the fire,¡¯¡¯ He said, turning his eyes back to the flames. ¡®¡¯They are warm.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯It is dangerous,¡¯¡¯ A rough voice called from behind. ¡®¡¯What if you roll into the fire in your sleep?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I won¡¯t!¡¯¡¯ Baybur stood up, raising his fist. ¡®¡¯I don¡¯t even move in my sleep. I sleep like a caterpillar!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯You do, dear, you do,¡¯¡¯ His mother smiled. ¡®¡¯But a certain man can¡¯t, and he is worrying about it.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯You- aaah! Fine. Go sleep wherever you like,¡¯¡¯ His father muttered, faint footsteps of a shadow approached them, came before the fire, and embraced him. ¡®¡¯But don¡¯t stay awake, alright? The march is tomorrow, don¡¯t you want to see it?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I want!¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, nodding furiously.


    ¡®¡¯Then be a good child and sleep.¡¯¡¯ He pat his head. In the meanwhile, his mother had stopped knitting and put whatever she was working on in a straw basket, then stood up. The wood creaked under their feet as his father led her to their bed. He was left behind.


    Baybur gazed at their back for some time after they went into shadows. He didn¡¯t think much before turning back and watching the dance of the fire. Crackle and crisp embers, moving shadows below and over him, the warmth that would burn him to cinders if he approached. It looked too enticing for his small mind. What if he approached it? Submerged in it? Tried to eat a mouthful? The result was all the same, he would die a painful death.


    But why did it come so sweet? The thought of dying by the fire? Because it was beautiful? He didn¡¯t think so. The little girl next door was prettier than the flame, even his thirty-some mother was. He only liked the sound of the fire, the small boom and puff every few seconds caused his heart to beat faster. His chest throbbed when the flame roared and swallowed pieces of wood. He loved the dancing shadows, moving in erratic shapes like maidens in the inns. Like the dancers on the streets, like the jesters on the courts, like the people on festive nights. If he, also, danced and drank and ate and sung, would he appear in the shadows of a flame; in the past, in the present, or in the future? Before the eyes of a young man, moving with joy and ecstasy, making hand gestures for him to join this eternal heaven of sweat and smiles. Would he do the same?


    Baybur, without hesitation, sought the answer. He raised his right hand, opened the fingers wide into a claw, then shot toward one of the flames at the back urging him. His hands passed through the stone circle into the fire chamber, then a sizzling came. A rush of pain, trembling of lips, and a scream.


    ¡®¡¯AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH¡¯¡¯


    *********


    ¡®¡¯Brother,¡¯¡¯ A voice called, Baybur opened his eyes wide. ¡®¡¯Brother, the physician came.¡¯¡¯ Baybur shook his head and looked back. A man had came with a long inky mustache, a straw hat on his head, and a basket on his hand, behind him the two men that went to seek for him.


    ¡®¡¯Can we carry him to my place?¡¯¡¯ The physician asked, turning to look at him and the house owner. ¡®¡¯He is in no immediate danger, dear brother, but treating him there would be for the better.¡¯¡¯ Baybur sat dazed for a moment. What need was there to wait here for him, then? Why didn¡¯t they seek him in the first place?


    ¡®¡¯Of- of course,¡¯¡¯ Baybur nodded and stood up, moving to the driver and holding him from the legs and the torso. ¡®¡¯Lead the way, please, and thank you.¡¯¡¯ He nodded to the other two, who put their palms over their left chests in response.


    ¡®¡¯No need, brother.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯No need, brother.¡¯¡¯


    After bidding farewell to the house owner and the remaining people, Baybur followed the running physician under the rain into dark alleys and narrow streets, and after nine minutes they were in front of a cottage with dome like ceiling. Physician took out a set of keys and fitted a small round one into the lock on the gates. He turned, the door clicked, and opened inside. ¡®¡¯Come over,¡¯¡¯ He urged and Baybur stepped in, the physician followed from behind and closed the gates, this time turning sideways to lock.


    ¡®¡¯Lay him over there, yes right there,¡¯¡¯ Physician pointed at a table like stone platform. Baybur laid the driver on there, then gazed at one of the chairs lying around under the shelves of enclosed herbs and medical tools. He went near one and plopped down, letting out a sigh.


    ¡®¡¯Can you pass me that liquid behind you?¡¯¡¯ The physician, now busy with playing around the wound on driver¡¯s forehead, asked with his back to Baybur. Baybur gazed at the things laying around on the desk, and indeed there was a green liquid with some kind of specks of white light. He took it and put it in the basket of the physician. ¡®¡¯Thank you,¡¯¡¯ He said, then went back to work.


    Baybur idled around at the same time, inspecting the shelves and the strands of grass and flower petals in the jars. There were emerald and gold colored ones for the most part, a few were crimson. Of the dozens of jars and glasses of them, however, only two were purplish. One had two stalks branching from the earth covered root, the other was a flower peduncle with three leaves.


    Oh, that is what father used...


    *********


    ¡®¡¯Fool, what did I say to you!¡¯¡¯ His father shouted, lifting Baybur into air. Baybur continued to groan and cry, his lips and face paled under the shadows of the flame. ¡®¡¯Woman, get me honey and the flower!¡¯¡¯ He walked off to the kitchen of their home and put quivering Baybur on the table.


    ¡®¡¯Why didn¡¯t you listen...¡¯¡¯ He muttered and put his palm over Baybur¡¯s eyes. ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t look, just wait, son.¡¯¡¯


    Hurried footsteps approached, then Baybur¡¯s mother appeared in her long green gown, in her hand a bowl closed with a strap of paper. She put it next to Baybur and after grasping a serving spoon started shuffling through the wooden urns under the table. ¡®¡¯Here-¡¯¡¯ She exclaimed a moment later and dragged a sizeable urn to open. She pulled out the sealing cap with force and hooked a spoonful of honey, then poured it on the open palm of Baybur.


    ¡®¡¯Aaa-ah-a-¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t close your palm, wait a second dear.¡¯¡¯ His mother said and grasped his fingers to hold it open. Meanwhile, his father opened the cloth covering the bowl and revealed a lustrous purple flower with three leaves on its peduncle. He crushed it between his rough hands and turned it into pieces, then rubbed them on Baybur¡¯s palm.


    Instantly, a faint tremor passed through Baybur¡¯s body and he screamed again. His eyes snapped open from the shock. A loud knocking at their door sounded at the same instant, then a yell.


    ¡®¡¯Morrighan!? Cain!? What happened!?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Answer the door,¡¯¡¯ Baybur¡¯s father, Cain, said. Morrighan nodded and sped off to the entrance.


    ¡®¡¯Son, bear a moment longer.¡¯¡¯ Cain closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then suddenly squeezed Baybur¡¯s palm holding the leaves.


    Another scream followed.


    *********


    ¡®¡¯Brother,¡¯¡¯ the physician called. Baybur averted his gaze from the herbs and looked at him. ¡®¡¯Come here, let me see your wound.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯My wound?¡¯¡¯ Baybur muttered, then he remembered his head. The pain went faint a while ago, so he had forgotten about it. ¡®¡¯It feels fine, brother, don¡¯t tire yourself more.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯If it is money that worries you, fear not. I won¡¯t charge a protector of our realm for a small treatment.¡¯¡¯ The physician smiled, then beckoned him to come over.


    ¡®¡¯Then...¡¯¡¯ Baybur pondered for a moment, then nodded. ¡®¡¯Thank you, brother physician.¡¯¡¯


    Baybur stood up and approached the physician, who made him sit on the same stone platform the driver laid on. As physician shuffled through his belongings and treatment tools, Baybur snuck a peek at the driver. There were stitches above his eyebrows, hidden by a patch of leaves washed with the green liquid. His arm was also back to its normal shape somewhat, but it was common sense that not many could heal fully from a broken arm. Especially old men, and the driver was one as any men with common sense would say.


    ¡®¡¯Hm?¡¯¡¯ A flicker of pain passed above Baybur¡¯s forehead. His focus now broken, his eyes slanted upward to see the physician pressing a piece of herb near his blonde hair. The faint pain turned into a sting, then into a pinch. He didn¡¯t react much, only his lips opened as if to ask something. But he decided not to in the end, and waited in silence for physician to finish his work.


    After a minute and a small ¡®¡¯Here you go!¡¯¡¯ from the physician, they were done and Baybur decided to ask.


    ¡®¡¯Brother physician, do you know where I can get some lodgings and a ride to the capital?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Oh, for the Sultan¡¯s festival?¡¯¡¯ The physician exclaimed. ¡®¡¯Lodgings is easy brother. I can let this old fellow rest here for the night, and down the street a few dozen steps there is a caravansary. But a ride is hard to find, I¡¯m not sure if you can even rent a mule.¡¯¡¯


    My luck is no good...Baybur sighed.


    ¡®¡¯But-¡¯¡¯ The physician pondered for a moment, ¡®¡¯I heard a Danishmend arrive the caravansary with a pretty wide carriage, going to the capital. I¡¯m sure he would make a place for a soldier.¡¯¡¯ He smiled.


    Baybur nodded, reaching with his hand to the physician¡¯s. ¡®¡¯Thank you, brother. Bless your heart¡¯¡¯ They shook each other¡¯s hands firmly, then with words of farewell and directions Baybur left the cottage.


    He walked down the street, rain pouring as fierce as ever, and passed by a few pedestrians who cast him unknown gazes. It didn¡¯t last long, as he took a turn to the right and came before a huge gateway. The caravansary was a type of building that could be considered both a tavern and a resting point for merchants, found mostly in the inner territories of the Sultanate. Few of them had been built in the extreme west where they conquered recently. The sole reason for that was the absence of established trade routes and the general lack of funds that were spent on the recent war.


    The caravansaries were, after all, places where services like blacksmithing, meals, lodging, animal handling, and goods protecting were done without any payment. Religious services were, too, sometimes provided in the presence of a clergy of the primary religion. There were also areas left for cooking meals, resting the animals, storing the goods, providing lodgings for the visitors, and afore mentioned religious needs. They could be considered some kind of charity, for most of the time there would be no payment to any kind of service in the first three days and nights. Prolonged stays, of course, were frowned upon unless the compensation was made.


    With such benefits, and with the trading route that extended all the way from the far east to the western lands, there were, and bound to be, many visitors. To accommodate the expected numbers, the caravansaries, like the one in front of Baybur, were built within grandiose spaces and covered with walls that not even many villages had. The gates were wide enough to let five or six camel wide merchant entourages and the central square in the middle had enough space to contain at least three hundred of them.


    Baybur let out a sigh at the walls and passed through the entrance. Most of the time, caravansaries accepted admittance from the dawn to the evening. He was a bit late, however, and the storm ensured that guards were stationed beforehand under the cover of their wooden posts.


    ¡®¡¯Halt, brother-¡¯¡¯ one of the guards said, subconsciously brandishing his spear towards Baybur. His eyes, however, glazed down his yatagan strapped to the belt and a trace of wariness passed through. ¡®¡¯-you know we can¡¯t accept people late in the night.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I know, brother,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, ¡®¡¯But it is my luck that I arrived late. I had an accident on the road, my carriage broke down and my driver got injured. I tried to move with haste, but how can a man go faster than a horse or a camel in this storm?¡¯¡¯ Baybur pressed his hand on his left chest to emphasize sincerity.


    ¡®¡¯I...understand, brother. Let me talk with the porter,¡¯¡¯ He said and disappeared into the caravansary, leaving Baybur alone with the other guard. The remaining man looked much friendlier and cast him a pitying smile.


    ¡®¡¯Brother, would you care to tell what trouble befell you?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Those young men, brother,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, sighing. ¡®¡¯And their unruly behavior.¡¯¡¯


    The man instantly understood what he meant. ¡®¡¯The trench incidents? I would have never thought one would happen in an outpost,¡¯¡¯ He muttered loud enough for Baybur to hear, even amidst the rain. ¡®¡¯The injury, then?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I admitted the driver to a physician,¡¯¡¯ Baybur explained, ¡®¡¯I got treated there.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯May Allah help you and others,¡¯¡¯ the guard sighed, ¡®¡¯It must be hard enough to run from wars into the pits of a child.¡¯¡¯


    Baybur¡¯s eyes shrank at the mention but he didn¡¯t make any comments. A minute or two passed, it was hard to keep track of the time at the moment, and the guard from then came back. ¡®¡¯Get in, brother, porter said he would make a room for you upstairs.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Thank you, you have my gratitude.¡¯¡¯ Baybur said and went in. He walked through the large courtyard and passed by many side rooms, most either empty or filled with the merchants¡¯ goods, as the latter was easy to identify with a set of guards appointed at their entrance. Some, however, were reserved for the cooks and the blacksmiths, and some for the hammam and coffee house. As this was a caravansary close to the capital and near the middle of the trading route, the latter two seemed to have a bigger area than the others.


    At the east and north corners of the caravansary were stairs, which Baybur climbed to the upper level. At the top of the stairs he was greeted by the man supposed to be the porter, assigned by the local authority to protect order and the people alike, and was led into an empty room with few furniture other than a ground bed.


    ¡®¡¯Oh, if you feel like no sleep will catch you now,¡¯¡¯ the porter said, wiggling his large belly, ¡®¡¯You can visit the coffee house. A danishmend is there, playing music for the still awake.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯That would be great,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, clasping the hands of the porter, ¡®¡¯And thank you brother.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t mention it, brother. Not many are like you,¡¯¡¯ Baybur smiled at the comment. ¡®¡¯How about I lead you there? I also want to hear that stinker¡¯s plays.¡¯¡¯


    Stinker? Baybur thought of the name for a moment, his eyelashes trembled. That is too much of a coincidence, he thought, But no one would dare call a danishmend stinker other than him... Baybur shook his head and followed the porter¡¯s lead after he locked the door and gave him the keys.


    They descended the stairs and walked through the courtyard again, then arrived at the door of the assumed to be coffee house. The faint light of the candles seeped under the door like hands to touch their feet; and a faint, calm melody wafted to their ears. It was...hard to describe the feeling it gave. As if a mysterious realm was before them, unable to be seen and only able to be felt. The reed¡¯s sound awakened memories no one wanted to share, it went deep down into ones¡¯ mind, then retracted faster than it came. As if it stole a piece of your soul, and you could do nothing but hope for it to not get anymore.


    But to someone like Baybur, it was more like a cure. If he could, he would give all those memories away to the tune, to disappear into the air. For them to be swept by the wind, to travel lands and realms away, to end in the instrument of another danishmend; perhaps as another tune, or as a painting, or as a poem. That would be the greatest moment of his life.


    But it wasn¡¯t, and the melody did nothing more than tickle the surface of his mind. The case was not so like the porter, who closed his eyes, muttering the notes in a trance. Baybur didn¡¯t disturb the man, nor reached for the door. A flicker of moment for him was an instance of enlightenment for others. He knew better than not to intervene between the self-interrogation now going through the heads of the listeners, and the investigation of the danishmend by his tunes.


    Soon, the melody came to a slow end, and all noise except the roaring thunder ceased. The porter awoke from his trace, then gazed back into the eyes of the Baybur. ¡®¡¯Beautiful, isn¡¯t it?¡¯¡¯ He said. ¡®¡¯I didn¡¯t expect him to be...so expressive.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯He always is,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, the trace of a smile appeared on his lips. ¡®¡¯That stinky Caner!¡¯¡¯ With that he moved forward, passed by the porter whose eyes widened, and opened the door.


    A gust of cold wind rushed into the hall behind Baybur¡¯s back and the candles strapped to the walls flickered, under their shadows stood a dozen people of different colors in different clothing. Some wore gowns over shirts, some colorful coats and jewels, and some only had a robe over their naked upper bodies and sticks by their sides. This was a gathering of citizens, merchants, pilgrims, and beggars. At the center, on the seating cushion like many sat, a bulky man with dark skin looked over. He held a reed flute, wore light garments of white color and a heavy green gown over it, and on top of his bald head was a yellowed taqiyah. The stink from it reached all the way here, even when the assaulting winds behind him pushed in the opposite direction.


    ¡®¡¯Oh my!¡¯¡¯ the danishmend exclaimed, revealing a pearly white set of teeth. ¡®¡¯Baybur! My dear companion!¡¯¡¯ He stood up from his cushion, put his reed on the coffee table next to his, well, coffee, and approached him with wide open arms. ¡®¡¯How come you are here?¡¯¡¯Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    ¡®¡¯For the same reason, brother Caner,¡¯¡¯ Baybur¡¯s lips extended into a warm smile and he opened his arms in response, taking the embrace of the man. They shared a hug for a moment, patting each other¡¯s back, then parted. ¡®¡¯For the Sultan¡¯s feast, of course. But to think we would meet here rather than the capital.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯So you expected me there?¡¯¡¯ Danishmend Caner asked, smiling.


    ¡®¡¯If not you, who would play songs for the Sultan and the Veliaht? No one is more qualified than you.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Too much praise, brother,¡¯¡¯ Caner shook his head, then urged Baybur to sit alongside him on one of the empty cushions. The porter closed the door behind them and sat next to one of the merchants. As they settled down, the gathering of people looked at them with interest for some time while their conversation continued. ¡®¡¯Say, brother, what is the deal with our Sultan¡¯s feast?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Why ask me? I am a simple yerliyya in the west, nothing more.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯A yerliyya who cut down twenty men in Kruje? A yerliyya who escaped under the encirclement of a hundred soldiers? Not simple, brother, you are just modest,¡¯¡¯ Caner suddenly stopped, eyeing the surrounding people, ¡®¡¯Or that is what I would say if I didn¡¯t know you.¡¯¡¯ A deep frown spread to his brows.


    ¡®¡¯So you¡¯ve heard of it...¡¯¡¯ Baybur muttered, putting his hand over the hilt of his yatagan.


    ¡®¡¯Crazy idea, but at the right time,¡¯¡¯ Caner muttered. ¡®¡¯To destroy the legacy of an ancient empire, Sultan¡¯s own destiny isn¡¯t enough.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Destiny, again?¡¯¡¯ Baybur¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡®¡¯Brother, destiny is not something we can perceive. You are supposed to be a savant more than a danishmend, how come you still persist in this belief of yours?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Because I¡¯m sure of it,¡¯¡¯ Danishmend shook his head. ¡®¡¯But forget it. I won¡¯t mention fate or destiny, yet you are aware that it won¡¯t be easy. How many times did our ancestors, and others¡¯ ancestors, sieged that city? Yet it never fell, not even once. Only when struck by their brothers in religion it suffered, but even then it stood high and valiant. Those walls, those temples. Sultan is young and naive if he thinks he can take the burden of a thousand years by himself.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Yet he isn''t, right?¡¯¡¯ Baybur muttered. Their voices turned into whispers at this point, as this matter wasn¡¯t one to be talked about in public. Especially for someone of the Hearths like him. If a word got out, his Hearth Agha wouldn¡¯t let him off.


    ¡®¡¯He isn¡¯t. His majesty knows he needs many people of courage and honor, and many loyal subordinates whose moral doesn¡¯t depend on benefits but fealty. And you, dear brother, is what he seeks, I assume?¡¯¡¯


    Both of them smiled for a moment. ¡®¡¯At least on the surface,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, the frowns appeared again. ¡®¡¯But, brother Caner, how high can I rise before the Sultan openly declares his intention to Pashas and Aghas and Sanjak-beys? The merit of that failure of siege would have been not so significant in other times. But now...¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯If Sultan is not desperate, ¡®¡¯ Caner pondered, ¡®¡¯You can be a Segban-bashi. He can¡¯t avoid the rules of the hearth and seniority, however, so any higher than that is not within reach. Unless...¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Unless I become one of the Pasha¡¯s subordinates?¡¯¡¯ Baybur¡¯s gaze followed the dancing shadows of the flames. ¡®¡¯I¡¯m willing, if it will lead me to that place.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯...I¡¯m sure it will, Alexander. I¡¯m sure of it.¡¯¡¯ Caner whispered, then they fell silent. As the silence plummeted the mood, the porter suddenly tapped on the coffee table in front of him.


    ¡®¡¯Dear danishmend, why not blow your and our sorrow with your reed, rather than drowning in it?¡¯¡¯ He said, then motioned a young man apparently belonging to the caravansary¡¯s staff. ¡®¡¯Boil more coffee and refresh the empty cups.¡¯¡¯ The young man nodded and hurriedly departed, almost rushing off. It was clear he didn¡¯t want to miss the performance about to happen.


    ¡®¡¯You are right, dear brother,¡¯¡¯ Danishmend Caner laughed, the mood turned a tad bit lighter than before. ¡®¡¯What good is emotions if they are not used? Let me play for you.¡¯¡¯ He picked the reed and put it near his mouth. His fingers caressed the wood and his eyes glazed over everyone present, standing on Baybur¡¯s slight smile the longest. Then he started blowing.


    *********


    After a good night¡¯s rest and a hearty breakfast, Baybur joined Danishmend Caner¡¯s carriage to set off to the capital. He didn¡¯t even need to ask, their relationship of almost twenty-five years was enough of a reason for Caner to take Baybur alongside him. And even if Baybur had the intention to travel by himself, Caner wouldn¡¯t allow it.


    So they sat in a slightly more luxurious carriage, pulled by two healthy black maned horses on the road to the capital. The wooden seating inside was patched with a wooly pillow sewn and nailed to the side. It gave the same comfort a ground bed would give, were it not for the small tremors every once in a while. The cause was the haul behind the carriage, an entourage of fifty-five camels carrying gold and jewels and spices from the far Southeast, following behind them. It was led by a merchant called Akram Amani, who also happened to sit alongside them in the carriage, and the reason proposed was to enjoy the company of the Danishmend and him.


    Baybur found it quite curious, for from what he learned this man had never met Caner or listened to his music. Instead, he, presumably, learned of their names from the fellows the night before in the morning, and their objective. After all, he seemed to be one of the feverish and venturous types, who sought deal after deal and customer after customer. Thus, a soon to be honored yerliyya whose name was recounted in coffee houses and a famed Danishmend who was the disciple of another well-regarded one was, not surprisingly, seen by him as an opportunity to get a better deal.


    From where, Baybur couldn¡¯t guess. But Caner seemed to do so, and there was also the smell of profit for his small school of arts at the old capital, so it was a fortunate transaction. So they talked, traveling inside a carriage, under the bright aquamarine of the sky and the glinting gold sunlight, and found bits of pieces of interest to further discuss.


    ¡®¡¯Brother Baybur,¡¯¡¯ the thick voice of Akram and his yet-polished pronunciation made one identify his origins easily, ¡¯¡¯It seems you had never been into the capital before?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I haven¡¯t, brother Akram,¡¯¡¯ he said, ¡®¡¯Our Hearth is outside the city, a few kilometers to the east so only the silhouette of the rectangular walls can be seen. Even after decades of training, I didn¡¯t have the chance to lay my eyes on the great mosques and the baths of the capital, for my appointment was quick to the western borders.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Being in the west is harsh, brother,¡¯¡¯ Akram said, ¡®¡¯I heard from friends that even normal citizens there are more miserable than our beggars. They don¡¯t even get half a bread for a meal, they say.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Beyond our borders? Yes,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, ¡®¡¯Danishmend knows as well, perhaps better than me know, since I¡¯m no longer at the extreme west.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯It is miserable,¡¯¡¯ Caner continued, ¡®¡¯Their king is not a king, and their lords are not lords. It is as if every mayor or a sanjak-bey is a king of their own land there, and each impose taxes upon taxes to the poor people. I had seen it first when my family emigrated there, an olive branch could trade for fifteen breads.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯That is indeed pitiful-¡¯¡¯ Akram said, opening his hands in a prayer. ¡®¡¯May Allah help those poor souls,¡¯¡¯ They all made the same gesture and prayed, the revolving of the wheels and the huffs of the camels dominated for a moment. Then Akram raised his gaze to look at Caner. ¡®¡¯Dear Danishmend, may I ask the reason why your family moved beyond the Thrace?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Iskan policy,¡¯¡¯ Caner said, rubbing his taqiyah, ¡®¡¯To absorb people into our religion and culture, Sultan moved families like us to the recently conquered territories. Mine was the sole family in that town though.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯The same our ancestors did at the western peninsula near the strait?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯That is invasion,¡¯¡¯ Baybur interrupted, ¡®¡¯This was just forceful moving.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯True,¡¯¡¯ Danishmend sighed, looking out at the fields of grazed wheat and livingstock; Cows, oxen, sheep, goats, horses, behind the long brown fences. His eyes shrank, then widened. ¡®¡¯Where are we now?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I suppose,¡¯¡¯ Akram said, looking outside, ¡®¡¯A few kilometers south of the city. The road leads to southeastern gate. The palace is at the west side of the Evros river, though. Will you take a turn?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯No, brother,¡¯¡¯ Danishmend said. ¡®¡¯We¡¯ll see my teacher first, so we will bother you for some more time.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Trouble?¡¯¡¯ Akram exclaimed, ran his fingers through his dusty long beard, then smiled wide to show his brilliant white teeth. ¡®¡¯It is me who is troubling you, brother, not the other way around.¡¯¡¯


    Both Caner and Baybur smiled, the road continued to flow beneath the nails under camels¡¯ foot and the wheels of the carriage.


    *********


    The current capital of the Sultanate was in a region much claimed and desired by many different forces, including the Ancient Empire and the forces at the west, who each controlled the city more than once in their history. Even before the Ancient Empire, great figures of more ancient times built their bases, cities, and military barracks here, drew and carved roads to improve the march and transportation speed, and expanded their empires from here. So the city and the surrounding region, mainly Thrace and East Macedonia, as well as Moecia brimmed with the history of many races¡¯ and kingdoms¡¯ ancestors.


    The capital, Edirne, as a result both prospered and suffered from many hands in its life time. The late Sultan Murat lost and regained this city, and his enemies Bulgarians and their allies in the west joined this tag game of acquiring Edirne. Ancient Empire, Byzantine, was no exception to the claims, but its weakened state left the once magnificent Hegemon with no choice but to pipe down. But almost all men in the surrounding realms knew this old, dying empire still held hopes of rising from their ashes. And for sure, at least in Baybur¡¯s opinion, they would first claim Thrace in their grasp if they had the chance to do so.


    But for now Baybur went back to the main star of his thoughts, Edirne.


    The city was built at the east side of the River Evros, flowing from Bulgaria and ending at the Aegean Sea, and was initially just a fort with a few households living in it. In the following times the living population increased and the families started spreading outside the fort, now called the Innercastle, and created many more neighbourhoods. The rapid expansion was followed by some wars and invasions, and at last the city of Hadripolos ended in the hands of the Murad The First, who renamed it to Edirne and made it the capital after a strange dream.


    The rectangular walls of the Edirne were built long before this time, around the first and second century, as well as the trenches that were dug around the walls. The River Evros and the trenches, as well as the walls¡¯ sturdiness gave the city both natural and anthropic defenses, and was soon declared the second capital of the Sultanate.


    As Akram explained the bits of history behind the capital with the occasional intervention of the Caner, Baybur had a more clear idea of the grand city of Edirne. Now that they were not so far from the city, and he was more closer than he ever was, for rather than the blurry outline of the walls he could now see the crystal river squeezing the land and the roads around the walls. They rose as high as ten meters and ran both to the north and the east to meet with the other side of the walls.


    ¡®¡¯Beautiful,¡¯¡¯ Baybur muttered, peeking out of the carriage window with his head on the open. The soft wind grazed his cheeks and his blonde hair, its sound bothered him no more than the stomping hooves¡¯ sounds did. Yet a more enticing, a quite unknown echo approached Baybur¡¯s ears as they followed the path.


    It was gurgling, choking; the smashing, the flowing, the slipping of the River Evros in its own body of water, and the flying droplets of water. They were not there yet, there were a few more minutes until they reached the bridge over the river connecting the roads on the other side. But Baybur, to his surprise, awaited that moment with anticipation. To him, who saw no body of water other than the puddles of rain in his hometown and his assigned province, the identification of a much majestical power of nature gave a sense of dread and intoxication.


    Yet, he had never been drunk in his life, but he felt it. How his mind loosened at the roaring river¡¯s waters, how his eyes widened and his mouth dangled open, to show his well-cleaned teeth behind the dry lips, and how his body turned limp.


    Caner seemed to realize something was wrong, but not what. Though he was a friend, and a real brother to Baybur for many years, he didn¡¯t, couldn¡¯t, know of the instinctual reaction a drylander would have towards the source of life. If Baybur¡¯s father was here, he would do the same. If his mother was here, she would do the same. If any of the people from their hometown, or those beyond the northwest was here, they would do the same. They would feel the same.


    After all, this was what they sought for so many years.


    *********


    They passed through the bridge over the river and took a right, the entourage followed the road at the foot of the walls and reached the southeastern gate where they were stopped by a few guards. Akram Amani bid them farewell here, for their roads would differ very much and he had some private business with a few unmentioned, but well-known, people. He also gestured Caner and thanked him for his help and recommendations, at which Caner also replied warmly.


    Their carriage was soon out of the gate and started going down the streets. There were many wonders of architecture in Edirne, most concentrated around the west and northern sides of the city. At the neighbourhoods they passed, the most startling things were the sheer amount of hammams, coffee houses, artisan workshops, and textile shops. Further down there, near a small opening in the city stood the Old Mosque. Baybur inspected the square shape, and on it were stacked two layers of domes, a total amount of nine, and four minarets spiraling into sky from the corners. Only, at the middle of the mosque atop the domes was a rectangular structure like a bell tower¡¯s top, which made him suspicious about its muslim origins.


    They soon departed and came before a tavern, where they left the carriage and took their belongings before bidding farewell to the driver. The driver sped off into the distance, they rented a room and left their possessions there, And started walking through the streets.


    The city¡¯s geographical location not only attached a strong military influence, its existence on a rich trade route also made the city a hub of culture and, well, trade. Akram¡¯s existence alone was a testimony to the attraction of the place. So there were no lack of vendors and people of different colors and clothing on the streets. Arguments and discussion went from place to place, sounds overlapped each other; footsteps, thick and hoarse accents, shouts and yells, or altogether different languages. All kinds of men ran over the place. People with white skins wearing light tunics coming to their knees and feathered hats atop their heads, people with black skins wearing white turbans and gowns over loose fitted shirts and trousers, and surprisingly two man with yellowish skins donning silken robes and hairpins on their waist length hair..


    Baybur, or from the look of it most people on the surroundings, didn¡¯t know of these people¡¯s origins, but it wasn¡¯t something different. One day an Arabian, other day a Turk, another day a Bulgarian or even English and Spanish from beyond Umayyad. No one took notice of it more than a few seconds except the foreign traders who tried to entice these seemingly alien people. And the two disappeared into the thick crowd. They passed through there again, walked for a few more minutes and the sounds slowly died off, vendors lessened and shops turned into private houses. Wooden buildings with one or two floors each, their triangle roof veiled under roof tiles of chestnut color, and occasional manors that stood above the rest with their mosque-like domes and white marble exterior.


    They went past them too, the architecture around the place turned into the classic example of the nomadic Turk style and Arabic Muslim style¡¯s mix, and at the intersection of cultural collision they stopped.


    ¡®¡¯It should be around here,¡¯¡¯ Caner muttered, inspecting the surroundings. ¡®¡¯But teacher didn¡¯t mention exactly where it was...¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Let¡¯s ask someone,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, then without waiting for an answer came before a random door and knocked.


    ¡®¡¯I¡¯m coming, Oho, Oho, Oho!¡¯¡¯ An old, dignified voice responded with coughs after coughs, faint and weak footsteps followed its wake and a tremor passed through the door. Then it opened inwards to reveal an old man, near fifty, who had a rather strange gown with seven hollow openings, in each different reed flutes. Baybur revealed a confused expression, Caner behind him rubbed his eyes, then shot a weird look at Baybur.


    ¡®¡¯This is what I call luck...¡¯¡¯


    *********


    Clasping his hand behind his back, the old man led Baybur and Caner into his home. The small hallway was paved with many ceramic vases and plates, both local and exotic, depicting the most favored materializations in the Ottoman culture; Calligraphies of Arabic words, Turkish words, half-Arabic half-Turkish words, and hand-tooled tulips, roses. There were also designs of other flowers, namely sunflowers and moonflowers, as well as rare portrayals of people. The technique used was lacking, evident from the faintly overlapping lines, caused by the mishap and miscalculation in the process of making and baking, and as a result seemed less important for Caner¡¯s teacher, who put them fairly low in the cardboards and shelves backing the walls.


    It was no more than a food for thought to Baybur and Caner, they had seen these pieces a few times since the old man had arrived at their town and took Caner as a disciple. Only, a few nice additions stood out here and there, and even then they didn¡¯t spare more than a glance to remember, as it would be an appetizer to any further discussions.


    After leaving the hallway, which looked quite longer than it was, they arrived at a main hall of simple features. Seating cushions were laid at the foot of the walls, and pillows of rather large size shouldered the hard partitions of the shelves of more ceramic and instruments. And fresh boiled water steamed on the stools in front of each, with small wooden sticks and crushed pellets of coffee beans ready to mix in.


    The old man finally retracted his hands from his back and pointed at the two facing a rather large one, he made the status quo clear from the start. Baybur smiled, then gazed from the corners of his eye to Caner, who also did the same.


    He never changes...


    ¡®¡¯Sit,¡¯¡¯ The old man said, then took his own seat. He grasped the cup of fresh-prepared water, poured the coffee beans, and started circling with the stick inside it. The clear transparent liquid soon transformed into brown, then the awakening smell of the heavy coffee crashed to the both. Caner and Baybur took their seats as well, clutched their own sticks and beans and followed the motion.


    Dull sound of wood tapping on ceramic cup seemed to awaken some memories, then drown more of them. Baybur gazed into the shifting colors and rippling surface, then into his own eyes from the reflection, and at the two phantoms hanging beside his shoulders. How long have you been there? He asked once, blinked, then they were gone.


    ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t look further,¡¯¡¯ the old voice appeared, then it battered Baybur¡¯s ears and his focus shattered. His gaze flew up and met the old man¡¯s raven black pupils. ¡®¡¯Forget about them already.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Why should I?¡¯¡¯ Baybur replied, took a short sip. The heat burned the tip of his tongue for a moment, he grimaced and furrowed his brows. ¡®¡¯They give me power to pull through, Uncle Hikmet.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯And suffering,¡¯¡¯ Hikmet sighed, ¡®¡¯Do you remember what you did wrong? Don¡¯t do it again.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I won¡¯t...¡¯¡¯ Hikmet scratched his beard at the response, then sighed.


    ¡®¡¯Caner?¡¯¡¯ He asked, looking at his disciple.


    ¡®¡¯Teacher,¡¯¡¯ Caner flashed a warm smile, his eyes twinkled with joy. ¡®¡¯It has been a year. I¡¯m happy to see you again.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯And to play,¡¯¡¯ Hikmet added, smiling. ¡®¡¯A private play for the realm¡¯s Pashas and Aghas and Sanjak-Bey¡¯s, as well as the Sultan Mehmed. Aren¡¯t we blessed?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯This will be the fourth Sultan you will be playing I assume, Uncle Hikmet?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯It will be. The first I played for Sultan Beyaz?d when I was ten years old, then for Chelebi Mehmed when I started gaining fame,¡¯¡¯ Hikmet sipped on his coffee as well, his frail arms were trembling. ¡®¡¯Then for the Second Murad, when he came to Bursa to my workshop.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯And now you¡¯ll play for his son,¡¯¡¯ Caner sighed, Baybur nodded alongside him.


    ¡®¡¯Outliving three Sultans is quite an achievement.¡¯¡¯ He added. Everyone smiled. They stood silent for a moment or two, then Hikmet started speaking again.


    ¡®¡¯Now that I¡¯ve heard, you¡¯ve had some remarkable achievement Baybur. Though it is from two years back.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯It also puzzles me how it spread this fast,¡¯¡¯ Baybur admitted, ¡®¡¯Uncle Hikmet, you might know something or two? Almost all eavesdroppers and gossipers have went under your hand at some point.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯You make teacher sound like those criminals, Baybur,¡¯¡¯ Caner laughed, ¡®¡¯But I¡¯m also curious, teacher. Who spread it?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Who other than Sultan himself?¡¯¡¯ Hikmet explained, then a coughing fit hit again. ¡®¡¯Oho-oho-oho-oho, Oh-¡¯¡¯ He took a deep breath, exhaled. ¡®¡¯I can¡¯t get used to these,¡¯¡¯ He wiped off a bead of sweat, then turned to look at them both. ¡®¡¯The court has some...loose lips who let out the news of a possible new siege. Most pashas are eager for it to happen, soldiers are also quite expectant. But Hearth Aghas are troubled over the potential loss of face and manpower if they lose. Thus, Sanjak-beys also feel less assured of how their supplied money and grain will be spent.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Ambitious Sultan¡¯s feet will be shackled, then, if he doesn¡¯t get enough support, so he openly created an opportunity?¡¯¡¯ Caner concluded.


    ¡®¡¯Not an opportunity,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, ¡®¡¯But a chance.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I can¡¯t see how they are different.¡¯¡¯ Caner said.


    ¡®¡¯Opportunity means the chance to accomplish something, whereas chance is to create a circumstance that might lead to an event to turn that circumstance from possibility into substance. He still has to gather support and, for the most part, approval of people. Which is easier if you look from Sultan¡¯s point. His holiness mohammad sallallahu aleyku vessellem¡¯s words about constantinople¡¯s conquest is enough of a momentum to start things.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯What follows after is a pandemonium...¡¯¡¯ Hikmet left the other half unspoken. ¡®¡¯Baybur, did you have to foul my mouth? Let¡¯s talk about something else, I need to get into the mood before the feast.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯My bad, uncle Hikmet,¡¯¡¯ Baybur flashed an apologetic smile. ¡®¡¯Then I need to comment on the new ceramics, as of tradition...¡¯¡¯


    *********


    To satisfy the great Danishmend and Master Hikmet¡¯s needs, and to show respect to the great artist, Sultan Mehmed had sent a comfortable carriage pulled by treasured horses from the east. He also assigned a pair of household troops, kap?kulu sipahis, to escort him without any accident, which everyone was sure that there was no chance.


    Baybur and Caner also mounted the same carriage and the whole way a fervent discussion about the ceramics continued. Hikmet loved talking about his collection. They were heaped and bought from at least a dozen different places and four different kingdoms; Arabia, Byzantine, Ottoman, and from the far India, who supplied them from another place. Few belonged to the last category though, and Hikmet was pressed hard to sell most of his Byzantine sourced ceramics after a period of poverty. So he treasured the last few much more than others.


    The discussion turned to the palace again, and the works of art stored inside its large halls and vaults. From the rumors, Hikmet said, although Sultan Mehmed sounded like an ambitious warmonger, his appreciation of art was almost equal to his love of sword and strategy. He had gathered many fine artisans and musicians and painters of the both Muslim and Christian world for the purposes of enriching the Edirne Palace.


    When the mention of the palace passed, Baybur couldn¡¯t help but peek out of the windows again. There, in his vision, lay the great gates of the palace and the wide square in front of it. Already many carriages crowded the entrance, some even pulled to the sides and crammed against each other to pave the way for the new incomers.


    Baybur¡¯s eyes shrank as he watched two men descend from a carriage together. One was a man with classic janissary attire, red overcoat and baggy trousers, but with a long thin moustache pointing to opposite sides. The other was a man in silk clothes and gowns, with a slight makeup to cover his black skin into a visible tan. Yet Baybur instantly recognized both.


    The janissary was the Agha of his Orta, Muzaffer Agha, and the other was the Akram Amani. Why are those two together? Baybur narrowed his eyes and pulled himself back into the carriage.


    ¡®¡¯Akram is here,¡¯¡¯ he said, turning to Caner and Hikmet. ¡®¡¯And Muzaffer Agha.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I also saw Ensar Pasha and Umeyyet Agha,¡¯¡¯ Caner said. ¡®¡¯And some others, I don¡¯t remember their names.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t look much,¡¯¡¯ Hikmet warned, closing his eyes for a moment. ¡®¡¯They will get suspicious swift.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Why? Does no one show curiosity towards a gathering of Sultanate¡¯s high-rank officials?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Certainly, but not a yerliyya and a Danishmend, while glaring right into their backs.¡¯¡¯


    They fell silent and sat straight, a minute after the carriage came to a halt. ¡®¡¯Let¡¯s get down,¡¯¡¯ Hikmet said and forced his shriveled body up to stand, grasped his Saz and reed flute, then descended from the opened doors. Baybur and Caner followed. They were greeted by an attendant of the palace, who led them inside through a wide hall. In the meantime, he started explaining about some parts of the arrangement.


    The main building where the feast would be held was called the Panoramic Pavilion. The event was supposed to happen near the throne room, and for this special occasion all doors leading to the other rooms like masjids and library were sealed shut. The servants were also sent away to deal with their own matters other than those assigned to work and were given a day-off their duties, and clearly their guide was not a lucky one. The concubines, children, close relatives, and secondary wives were exempt from attempting except the Valide Sultan and Sultana as well, so there would be more of the outsiders rather than the palace¡¯s residents. This was proven quite easily, as the moment they stepped into the room and were left alone by the guide, their eyes couldn¡¯t spot any of the royal blood.


    There were two long tables at the right and left sides of the Throne room, enough to accommodate thirty people each, and in front of the throne-with two of smaller sizes next to it- above the seven steps of stairs was three round tables, prepared for the Sultan, Sultana, and Valide Sultan. Their positions, as well as the long tables, stood empty for now.


    For the first few seconds, Pashas and Aghas and the few Sanjak-Beys continued their conversations, only taking a glance at the trio inspecting the golden chandeliers and works of art hung on the walls. Yet when that initial moment passed, everyone stopped talking. Aghas¡¯ face lit up at Baybur, Pashas¡¯ eyes glued to the Caner, Sanjak-Beys revealed both dark and bright smiles at Hikmet. Then a quick turn of gazing between the Sultanate¡¯s high-ranked officials broke out, only to end with the victory of two people.


    ¡®¡¯Muzaffer Agha,¡¯¡¯ Baybur cast a smile of respect at the incoming man. Muzaffer Agha pulled on his rope-like mustache and wheeled it around his finger, grinning with a set of broken teeth. ¡®¡¯I¡¯m happy to see you today, here.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Me too, Baybur, me too.¡¯¡¯ Caner trembled at Muzaffer Agha¡¯s voice. Baybur raised a brow and cast a sidelong glance at him, only then did he wipe the beads of sweat on his forehead. His voice is terrifying, but not that much.


    ¡®¡¯Danishmend Hikmet, I am honored to meet you,¡¯¡¯ The other man came close and grasped Hikmet by hand. They looked almost the same age, except the few strands of brown passing through the other party¡¯s hair, which revealed him to be at least a decade younger than Hikmet. ¡®¡¯And I¡¯m delighted to see your presence here, again, Caner.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I am more than honored, Ali Bey,¡¯¡¯ Caner put his palm over his left chest.


    ¡®¡¯And this should be the young hero?¡¯¡¯ Sanjak-Bey Ali looked over at Bayur, his eyes had narrowed the moment their gazes met. Baybur realized that the conversation wouldn¡¯t, and actually wasn¡¯t, flow with this man. From his motions and the small depreciating smile hung on his lips, it wasn¡¯t hard to derive that he wasn¡¯t fond of Baybur at all. For what reason? It could be anything from his background- as it was known most of the Sanjak-beys found Janissaries hard to accommodate and troublesome for their strict martial beliefs- to his achievement, which he was prepared to face repercussions. Favor of a Sultan is hard to bear, he repeated, then smiled.


    ¡®¡¯I¡¯m a normal yerliyya, my Bey, nothing more. It was out of duty and requirement I did save the Sultan from that predicament. And most of my colleagues could do the same in the same situation.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯So if it was not required, you wouldn¡¯t act?¡¯¡¯ Ali Bey skipped all over Baybur¡¯s words as if he didn¡¯t hear them. Hikmet and Muzaffer frowned at the bey¡¯s response, Caner¡¯s eyes shifted between Baybur and Ali Bey. Baybur didn¡¯t seem perturbed as he opened his mouth to talk.


    ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t take words at face value, little Ali-¡¯¡¯ A voice interrupted before Baybur uttered any words, the five people and the rest of the hall suddenly turned to look at the incomer. A pair of footsteps echoed from the hallway leading to the outside, then two people appeared. ¡®¡¯-The spirit of a soldier comes from duty and loyalty. If he had said otherwise, this little hero wouldn¡¯t be a hero.¡¯¡¯


    It was an old man that looked older than Hikmet, wrinkles seemed to race each other to fill the nooks and crannies of his face. Yet his body was built sturdier than statues of famous sculptors, the emerald gown over his white shirt had a square bulge of chest muscle sprouting outward. ¡®¡¯Oh, see Arzu! It is Danishmend Hikmet and Danishmend Caner!¡¯¡¯ Beside him walked a young lady wearing a dark draped skirt, on top of it a dress covering almost all parts of her arms except the part below the wrist, going down like waves of a tide. At her fluttering tendrils of nightmarish black hair, Baybur¡¯s body turned into a stone statue. Dark...a flicker of thought passed before his eyes shrank and enlarged countless times.


    Dark was the color most detested, for it was worn when mourning and executing. It was associated with blood, and death, and pain. So it was forbidden to anyone but european doctors to wear as a color, and perhaps a few old beggars starving in the streets. But she was an exception. The dark, the nightly aura, the cold beauty of it fit so well, so lovely...


    Her eyes carried the trace of stars, her brows threads of a divine fishing rod baiting them to catch. Yet her tranquil expression of noble disposition didn¡¯t let the rod rise forth with the joy of a prize. The ebony thread above the pitch-black stars continued to tremble with anticipation, and so did Baybur¡¯s fluttering heart. And a fluttering slap to his back, which awoke him from the stupor.


    Baybur let out a dry cough and looked at his side, Caner seemed to cast him a sidelong glance, carrying the trace of a smile. Baybur narrowed his eyes but said nothing, then turned to gaze at the incomers. His broken focus and stupefied expression lasted no more than a second and a half, and the perception of those around him were not as good as Caner, who was a brother of many years. So it was no surprise they didn¡¯t notice anything more than a stop of surprise, and this man in front of them deserved a reaction as such for the sole reason of his identity, thus it was not something noteworthy.


    ¡®¡¯?etin pasha!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯?etin pasha, how auspicious!¡¯¡¯ Muzaffer and Ali Bey greeted the man with a small bow of their head. ?etin pasha was someone who lived through the most dangerous of the Sultanate¡¯s times and had great contributions in the armies of Mehmed ?elebi throughout the interregnum. His wealth, although not at the peak, surpassed many and his fame more so. In the battle of Varna he acted as one of the guards of the Murad The Second, and hung the head of the King Wladyslaw on a lance in the battlefield. He was honored by many and praised by the Sultan as one of the most treasured possessions of the Sultanate.


    So his standing was quite clear among these young and middle-aged pashas and Aghas. The air turned stale with respect and gazes of intrigue, yet, to Baybur¡¯s surprise, no one cast even an interested glance at ?etin Pasha¡¯s daughter. Some even flashed dissatisfied gazes and gazes.


    ¡®¡¯You¡¯ve become older again, Hikmet,¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha said and put his hand over his left chest, greeting everyone with the nod of a head at the same time. ¡®Still not as old as me though, I hope you do.¡¯¡¯ He laughed.


    ¡®¡¯May you live longer than me, ?etin pasha,¡¯¡¯ Hikmet smiled. ¡®¡¯Else who will protect small musicians like me?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯You or your disciple?¡¯¡¯ He asked and glanced at Caner, then at Baybur. ¡®¡¯Or this young hero who is apparently not one?¡¯¡¯ Hikmet cast another smile that was not one, so ?etin pasha nodded. ¡®¡¯Then, let us sit as well. Sultan wouldn¡¯t be proud about keeping two bags of bones at their feet, I assume.¡¯¡¯


    So they sat at the leftmost side of the right table, right before the eyes of the Sultan¡¯s throne, and started speaking. Caner also squeezed in near his teacher and urged Baybur to sit alongside him. But Baybur decided not to do so for the moment. His eyes swept the hall and counted every men standing or already sitting around. He counted sixty-one people including himself. A person would have to stand up.


    He gazed at Arzu, ?etin Pasha¡¯s daughter and motioned with his hand at his revealed seat. ¡®¡¯I suppose miss would want to sit rather than stand?¡¯¡¯


    Her eyes slightly trembled at his call, she turned to look at him for a moment. Baybur found himself getting lost between the stars under those divine rods, then with a shake of his head slipped away from the trance. He found the pasha¡¯s daughter nodding with the trace of a smile, which disappeared as a mirage in a desert would, and moved a few steps to sit down. Caner raised his head to look at him. He showed a wry smile, yet he also seemed relieved.


    The discussions slowly died off and soon a pair of servants appeared beside the gates leading outside. They bowed to the crowd and moved to the handles of the large doors, then pulled back. The gates squeaked, a sharp screech sounded, and the entrance was sealed. All sounds from outside vanished into thin air at the same instant, then three pair of footsteps rumbled throughout the palace.


    Eyes flashed and twinkled, smiles appeared, clothes were checked and tidied, glances were cast at each other. Hikmet suddenly turned around and motioned Caner with his hand. ¡®¡¯Play something for the Sultan,¡¯¡¯ He said, ?etin Pasha looked interested at his words.


    ¡®¡¯Do well, Danishmend.¡¯¡¯ He said and laid on his seat.


    Caner nodded and grasped the reed flute lying on his knees. He passed his fingers through the end and caressed the hollows on its surface. He positioned the flute, blew low enough to not make any noise, then at the exact instant the footsteps¡¯ echo reached a peak he took a deep breath.


    Then exhaled into the tube.


    The melody sprang like a tiger lying for the prey, snatching with its claws at the hearts of all men inside the hall. The footsteps halted for a moment, then startled forth again. This time weak, soft. These were the steps of someone showing respect to the performance, to the soul of the Danishmend pouring his insides to tell his mind.


    The strange thing, in almost everyone¡¯s opinion, was that this melody carried no majesty. It didn¡¯t praise the Sultan, it didn¡¯t increase the tension, it didn¡¯t attempt to glorify the entrance. It was a simple, low-volumed song welcoming a man of keen faith. Yet, what the sound welcomed was not the Sultan Mehmed, it was Mehmed the son of Murad and H¨¹ma, the subject of Allah and the admirer of people.


    It was a tune that seperated Sultan from the Mehmed, and in response the Sultan descended down the stairs with caution. He stopped at the feet of his throne, clasped his hands behind his back, then gazed at Caner playing the reed flute. His eyes carried a trace of frozen resentment, being scorched by the melody and blown away.


    The dead silence waited restless until the last few breaths of the Caner were spent, and once it came to a halt Sultan raised both his hands.


    Then he clapped.

 Chapter 2-Onward To The Venice

    The Sultan¡¯s throne room had a rather wide hall compared to the mansion of his city¡¯s Sanjak-Bey. Fool, though Baybur called himself. The difference of a word was larger than the amount of letters it represented, of course. But without comparing, he couldn¡¯t comprehend the size of the whole palace, as when put together Baybur could estimate the manor of the Sanjak-bey would cover but one tenth of the overall area. Quite large, simply, he added and his gaze traveled in the hall.


    Now all Pashas, Aghas, and the few Sanjak-Beys from the neighbouring provinces seated themselves on the two long tables. Baybur realized now that these weren¡¯t only two long tables, it would be abrupt, else, as it would be too hard to carry in and out of the room. In reality they were made of twelve smaller tables, but the silver-white gold-ornamented covers were a single whole, so the confusion seemed acceptable. Other than that, the chairs brought over were luxurious too, as far as the appearance went. They had fine curves carved on the armchairs lining towards the head parts, converging into the roots of a lily spreading its petals. There were small pillow-like cushions placed, or strapped, as he didn¡¯t sit on one to feel, to soften the seat and relax both the back and the arse.


    Moving from the chairs, up on the tables¡¯ covers stood plates of polished silver and mugs of sparkling ceramic. Spoons laid beside them, and small forks which the ottoman cuisine was still trying to get used to. Even then, most meals included either steak and beef and soup, or broth to be specific, so the use of hands and only a spoon was the general way of eating. But Murat The Second¡¯s reign also saw some changes in that part, together with slight improvements at Edirne¡¯s small shipyard by the riverside and relations with the west. Is the latter an improvement though...it could be, if the eventual aim was to have them the enemy. It seemed so at the moment, too, if one observed the young Sultan¡¯s moves carefully.


    Thinking of Sultan, Baybur moved his gaze from the conversing gathering to the smiling Sultan Mehmed The Second. He was, as his name indicated, the second Sultan to be named Mehmed, with the first being Mehmed Chelebi, the father of the late Sultan, who pulled the state from a dangerous state of interregnum after the defeat of his father under the hands of Timur of Timurids. Father of a father of a father- how long does the list goes? At least two centuries, Ottomans weren¡¯t rulers for most of the time, they had been nomads like their brethren coming from the east and settled under the rule of the Seljuk Turks near the northwestern Anatolia. Their lines, as a result, weren¡¯t that extensive.


    Perhaps that was the reason Sultan Mehmed seemed eager and ambitious. The future wasn¡¯t set yet, and so did the fate of the Byzantine and Constantinople, and Sultan¡¯s own destiny. Almost all muslim rulers dreamed of stomping on the streets of Constantinople, none succeeded, and being the first one to do so meant great honor, great prestige, and more so a fame that could last a milennia. Like that of the romans. Baybur could tell how optimistic the Sultan was from the bright smile on his face, hiding his teeth with the tannish lips. Even though his long nose seemed to slope down and come between his wide smile, it didn¡¯t reach quite yet. But the length was impressive, nonetheless.


    Voices of the surroundings boomed in his ears once more, Baybur realized as more than fifty mouths spoke at the same time, pointing to the arrival of the servants with the meals. Indeed, even before Baybur saw the fluttering gowns of the servants the fresh smell of broth slipped into the hall. Caner seated below him opened his eyes from dizziness and looked up, a glint passed through his pupils before he turned to gaze at Baybur again.


    ¡®¡¯Still not seated?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯No, I¡¯m sitting, don¡¯t you see?¡¯¡¯ Baybur pointed at his feet, then he made a motion as if trying to sit on thin air. He actually looked like sitting for a moment or two before he lost balance and fell.


    ¡®¡¯Pfft-¡¯¡¯ Caner snorted, a few weird glances flew over to their position. They both coughed and sat, in Baybur¡¯s case stood, straight before looking at each other again. ¡®¡¯Still,¡¯¡¯ Caner said, scratching his taqiyah, ¡®¡¯I saw Sultan sneaking peeks at you quite a few times, and Valide Sultan too. She seems concerned.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯It might look bad on their part,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, propping his chin to look at Arzu on their left. Her eyes were glued to the plates approaching their table. ¡®¡¯To not even properly count the visitors. It might be because of me, or ?etin Pasha¡¯s daughter, but it''s probably going to be regarded in my name.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Then you should have taken the seat, at least you would have shifted the blame.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯First, it would look worse on the Sultan. Second, it would still affect me. How could I, a small yerliyya, take a seat from a noblewomen? Especially ?etin Pasha¡¯s daughter!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯My daughter? So you gave her your place because she is my flesh?¡¯¡¯ A voice interrupted their speech. Baybur and Caner felt their scalps tingle for a moment, then rotated their heads to look at Hikmet and ?etin Pasha gazing at them. They looked amused. ¡®¡¯And I thought you were a gentleman.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Baybur is-¡¯¡¯ Hikmet said, smiling, ¡®¡¯Only to his sister, though. Were it not for his Janissary code, I suppose it would be different.¡¯¡¯


    Baybur¡¯s face flamed hot at the comments, then paled into a shade of grey. ¡®¡¯I live for the hearth, so I act according to its rules as well, my Pasha. I¡¯m sorry for causing a little misunderstanding.¡¯¡¯


    Baybur felt a hand pinch his palm from the hack, he looked over his shoulder. He saw Arzu retreating her jade-like hand to place on her thighs again, smiling calmly to herself, but the pain was still there. His eyes lost their luster for a second, then regained their color. This time, however, he saw a glint pass through both men¡¯s eyes at the same time. They had realized it. Baybur¡¯s heart churned.


    ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t apologize, I am only jesting little hero,¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha said after a moment of thought, turning his head to nod at a servant who brought the broths and roasted lambs. ¡®¡¯Not many shows kindness to my daughter, even with ulterior moves, which you lack.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Can you get a seat for this young man, please, and a stool as well?¡¯¡¯ He asked a servant, who hurriedly nodded and rushed with wide steps back to the Palace¡¯s inner sections. Another pair of servants continued to place the meals in and between, the juice of the lamb and drops of broth¡¯s soup spilled on the table, their smells were overbearingly enticing. Whether they were intentional or not, Baybur didn¡¯t know, but they managed to intensify his not-so-big hunger. Another servant followed behind the both, he had quite muscular arms that didn¡¯t fit his cloth and carried a jug almost three quarters of his size, pouring milky-white ayran to the empty mugs.


    Although the speed they delivered the food could be described as storming through, gulps and licked lips of the many showed how slow it felt to the receivers. Their anticipation didn¡¯t last long, as fifteen seconds later everyone left except a late-comer who brought over a small table and chair duo for Baybur. He set them right behind Caner, Arzu, Hikmet, and ?etin Pasha¡¯s seating places and another one put the meals. Pashas and aghas cast amused, weird glances while Sultan Mehmed had a slight frown on his face. As the last plate was about to be placed, Sultan suddenly spoke.


    ¡®¡¯Bring it here!¡¯¡¯


    His voice boomed inside the hall and the merry air froze for a moment, Baybur¡¯s eyes widened. The servant trembled, then looked at his Sultan in confusion. He didn¡¯t seem to understand the order.


    ¡®¡¯Bring his table here, let him seat with me.¡¯¡¯ Sultan Mehmed said, then the frozen air burst into an uproar. Baybur, likewise, gave a deep bow.


    ¡®¡¯My Sultan, that is too high of an honor for me,¡¯¡¯ Baybur¡¯s voice bordered near a shout, ¡®¡¯And blatant disregard to my own hearth¡¯s Agha.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯What!?¡¯¡¯ Ali Bey exclaimed, beside him Umeyyet Agha shot a glare at Baybur. There were six more people, five of them unsurprisingly Sanjak-Beys and the last one being Ensar Pasha, who pointed at him with their fingers and opened their mouths to talk.


    ¡®¡¯You dare not follow Sultan¡¯s orders!?¡¯¡¯ Muzaffer Agha shouted at Baybur before any other could voice their opinion, a soft smile appeared on Sultan Mehmed¡¯s face. ¡®¡¯You make me feel ashamed, Baybur. Hurry and comply!¡¯¡¯


    Baybur stood there, dazed, and watched people looking at him. Of the whole hall, almost half looked at him with wide smiles, a small portion with glares, and the remaining few with interest. Ali Bey and Umeyyet Agha¡¯s gazes Baybur engraved in his heart and Akram¡¯s raised brow he threw back into his mind. Then he smiled in his heart.


    It is no surprise that Sultan has intended for this, He thought and moved behind the servant carrying the table, while he himself held the chair. They came right beside the Sultan, stopped one stair lower and placed the table and the chair. The food, however careful they were, still spilled a bit but no one commented on that. Baybur put his hand over his left chest and gave a bow to Sultan, then to Muzaffer Agha. At last he sat and started waiting for Sultan to sweep his mighty gaze over the crowd.


    An awkward and choking, latter mostly for those that tried to rebuke, descended to the room. The broths and roasted lambs and steaks continued to steam and give tasty smells of their warm texture, the oily juice seeped on the plates gleaming surfaces. A small wind swayed the golden chandeliers back and forth, causing them to squeak soft. ?etin Pasha and Hikmet coughed at the same time, they both suffered from chronic coughs, so it didn¡¯t garner any special attention. Baybur, however, felt everyone¡¯s gazes descend on him. Their eyes flashed with anger, greed, interest, two with amusement, one with an intent of relief, and other pure curiosity.


    Baybur looked into the sparkling stars under the dark divine rods of brows, his own stars seemed to brighten under their influence like the surface of a moon in the night. For that moment, when two stars met in the empty darkness of the space from billions of years away, yet also infinitely close to collapse into a debris of meteorite, Baybur felt his heart shake once more. The lights of their stars weren¡¯t the kind to reach out to others. They just happened to be near, together, at a specific place at a specific time, and their lights were not conflicting enough to merge. They couldn¡¯t fuse, nor could they reach an agreement on which light would dominate that dark space.


    For now, they had no relation other than that of two distant stars, gazing at each other in wonder.


    ¡®¡¯Bismillahirrahmanirrahim!¡¯¡¯ Sultan Mehmed¡¯s voice pulled Baybur from the starfields down to earth, back to the table and under the eyes of the crowd. Everyone in his view of sight had raised their hands to a prayer and repeated after Sultan Mehmed. ¡®¡¯May Allah give our meal his blessings, may each bite we take remind us of his greatness, and give felicity to our lives. Before this, here, and after this meal, may Allah give compassion and treat us with compassion, and may Allah do so to all brothers of Islam around the world.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Amin!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Amin!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Amin!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Amin!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Ami...¡¯¡¯


    Everyone chanted at the same time, the soundwaves turned into a tidal wave that rebounded in the palace until the roar died off. ¡®¡¯Please, go on.¡¯¡¯ Sultan Mehmed said, raised his spoon, then took a spoonful of broth to his mouth.


    People continued after him and soon all noise remained was the clattering of plates and spoons and furious chewing. It was frowned upon to talk while eating, more so laughing, and even frowning. And even if it wasn¡¯t as such, and they had the chance to freely talk and laugh, with the oppressing aura encasing the throne room from Sultan¡¯s gaze no one would even consider attempting it. One wrong move and their status would fall behind even the lowly yerliyya.


    That was what instinct told.


    *********


    After the few remaining servants came back to pick up the empty plates and dirtied dishes, another contingent followed inside and brought some desserts to eat, mainly Baklava. They were put on each table with the exception of Sultana and Valide Sultan¡¯s, who both left after a moment of consideration from Sultan Mehmed¡¯s part. They departed after giving a bow and wishing a good meal, then disappeared from sight into one of the backrooms of the throne room.


    ¡®¡¯Now that our bellies are full and our tongues are satisfied,¡¯¡¯ Sultan said, ¡®¡¯Let us talk about important matters of the realm.¡¯¡¯ He clapped twice and the remaining servants scurried off to back rooms again. Now everyone left in the hall were high-ranked officials of the Sultanate, except Baybur¡¯s entourage of two Danishmends and one Yerliyya. Baybur felt a headache from all the stares he got, but what made him most irritated was the lack of attention to Caner and Hikmet. His table didn¡¯t help the difference, though.


    ¡®¡¯The gathering of Diwan yesterday was not fruitful and there were no concrete solutions to the aggressions of the other nations,¡¯¡¯ Sultan Mehmed said, ¡®¡¯Ever since my dear father¡¯s death, the Hungarians harassed our Serbian vassal¡¯s borders and raided our villages.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯These would be simple matters of diplomatic interest to solve, I hoped, but it seems many wish to escalate this matter into something entirely different and violent,¡¯¡¯ His eyes swept the crowd, then landed on Baybur. ¡®¡¯I am more than happy to see some subjects thinking the same as me and proving their fealty.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Muzaffer Agha,¡¯¡¯ Sultan Mehmed called, ¡®¡¯There is no need to consult the viziers and the grand vizier, I take Yerliyya Baybur from your hearth and take him as my palace guard among the others. Do you have any disagreements?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I dare not, it is his good fortune granted by Allah to serve under you directly!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Good!¡¯¡¯ Sultan Mehmed cast a slight smile, Baybur shot to his feet, put his hand over his left chest, and bowed. ¡®¡¯Sit, even with your promotion out of the way there is a task for you.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Now,¡¯¡¯ He said, plucking a scroll from inside his wide gown, ¡®¡¯The Karamanids seem to question, even underestimate the authority of my rulership, and are brazen enough to rise against me. I do understand the worries of his, ¡®¡¯Sultan¡¯s eyes narrowed for a moment, ¡®¡¯or yours,¡¯¡¯ Then turned back into a smile, ¡®¡¯But to be doubting me, my father¡¯s legacy, and my ancestor¡¯s inheritance, the divine rulership, is not something I¡¯m going to look over on a whim.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Say, Ali bey,¡¯¡¯ Sultan turned to look at the Sanjak-Bey sitting near Umeyyet Agha and a few other Sanjak-Beys, their frozen hands clutching the sides of the baklava in the air.¡¯¡¯Isn¡¯t it the right course of action to do so? If this isn¡¯t a rebellion, then what is?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯It indeed is, my Sultan!¡¯¡¯ Ali Bey dropped the baklava to the plate, it scrambled into pieces of grained walnut and flakes. A hint of pity passed through his eyes.


    ¡®¡¯Then say so in open instead of covering behind your lover and talking matters of the realm in bed,¡¯¡¯ Sultan smiled.


    ¡®¡¯...I-I will do so...¡¯¡¯ Ali bey muttered, a tinge of red over his cheeks and forehead.


    ¡®¡¯Since Ali Bey finds it also right,¡¯¡¯ Sultan said, ¡®¡¯No others have doubts I assume?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯None, my sultan!¡¯¡¯ Muzaffer Agha patted his chest.


    ¡®¡¯Shall I lead a thousand of our raiders to East Anatolia, My Sultan?¡¯¡¯ Ensar Pasha asked with vigor, standing up and raising his fist. ¡®¡¯I can crush those disorderly rebellious bastards to a pulp in a matter of four hours.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I hope that does not include the travel time, hahaha!¡¯¡¯ ?etin pasha laughed, turning to look at Sultan Mehmed. ¡®¡¯My Sultan, it is the best to lead armies yourself, rather than leaving it to these hot-blooded old men. The people need to see a verdant tree, not one with withering leaves.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I am of the same opinion,¡¯¡¯ Umeyyet Agha said, clasping his hands together to rub them. ¡®¡¯My Sultan needs to act fast, decisive, and show them who they serve. No servant garners more respect than their master.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯My Sultan...¡¯¡¯


    A few more voices of agreement later, Sultan nodded to the Aghas and Pashas. It escaped no one¡¯s notice that Sanjak-Beys didn¡¯t voice their opinions, but it didn¡¯t matter much at this point. Baybur turned his head to look at the Sanjak-Beys. They seemed uninterested.


    ¡®¡¯Then all left to be done is to get promises,¡¯¡¯ Sultan Mehmed spoke again. ¡®¡¯Since I will be absent for even a short while, it is necessary to ensure the safety of our western borders. So I have picked three of you to lead a diplomatic group to three places; Hungary, Genoa, Venice.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Ensar Pasha, Hungarians know of you more than our people know, and your soldiers are most acquainted with the region itself. You will take my message to King Ladislaus The Fifth and negotiate a non-aggression. Pick four followers, I¡¯ll provide twenty men to your entourage and two translators.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Consider it done, My Sultan.¡¯¡¯ Ensar Pasha bowed and took a seat.


    ¡®¡¯Salih Pasha,¡¯¡¯ Sultan called out once more, ¡®¡¯Your destination is Genoa! Take my letter to Campofregoso Pietro, and a gift that I will deliver as well. I¡¯ll also provide a translator and ten men, and you can pick three men as well for your voyage.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯As you command, My Sultan.¡¯¡¯ Salih Pasha stood out a few steps left to Caner¡¯s position, he also gave a bow and sat. He had a thoughtful expression the whole time.


    ¡®¡¯?etin Pasha, at the last,¡¯¡¯ Sultan smiled, ¡®¡¯ I¡¯ll entrust you to go to Venice and deliver my message to Doge Foscari. He had shown admiration of you in the distant past as my father calls it, so I expect you to have a smoother trip. I¡¯ll assign a translator and an entourage of ten men,¡¯¡¯ At here he pointed at Baybur,¡¯¡¯ He will be leading, and¡¯¡¯ Then retracted his arm to rest his chin. ¡®¡¯I¡¯ll deliver the gifts for you to take alongside the ship.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯As you wish, My Sultan,¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha stood up and put his hand over his left chest, giving a slight bow, then sat on his chair with a puff. ¡®¡¯See, Hikmet, I said I wouldn¡¯t be here for long.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯You did, hahah,¡¯¡¯ Danishmend Hikmet gave a slight titter and went silent like all others, concentrating the gazes on Sultan Mehmed.


    ¡®¡¯This is all,¡¯¡¯ Sultan Mehmed declared, then clapped twice. ¡®¡¯Then let us relax and listen, my subjects,¡¯¡¯ His eyes glazed over Hikmet and Caner, who both stood up and grasped their instruments. ¡®¡¯Pull your chair close to mine, I want to listen from near.¡¯¡¯


    They did as instructed, put their chairs right below the stairs and patted their instruments. Their motions were perfectly synced as their hands grazed the tubes, let dry coughs to assess their voice, and blew into the reed flutes to see the dust.


    Then as Sultan¡¯s words fell silent, their souls began to speak.


    Two reeds voice fused into one silent whistle, into a bird flying over the chandeliers and near the stained glasses. The bird of voice glided down into the ears and split into loud, rising tones of the reed flutes in the ears of the crowd. Shoulders relaxed, frowns easened, deep breaths were taken...


    The teacher and the student¡¯s difference didn¡¯t seem any apparent to anyone. As if they were the same, as if there was only a single man pretending to be two, or two that were separated from one. That single or two-sectional souls could only diverge or condense into two and one with only voice. With the sound, with the instrument, with the blowing mouth.


    ¡®¡¯Only listen,¡¯¡¯ Sultan¡¯s voice appeared behind Baybur¡¯s ears, he flinched but didn¡¯t turn around. ¡®¡¯I¡¯ve looked into you twice, first after you saved my life, second when you were on your way here.¡¯¡¯ His voice was too low for anyone to hear beside the music¡¯s overbearing presence. But Baybur, and the Sultan, were people who didn¡¯t seem to find any connection with the soul of the Danishmends. They could still process words and converse, and could ignore the battering waves of melancholic tunes from prying their memories open. Baybur had been so since he joined the hearth, but he didn¡¯t know since when Sultan was like him, too.


    ¡®¡¯I do feel conflicted about your past,¡¯¡¯ Sultan Mehmed said, Baybur thought of how he talked without making his conversation apparent to the few uninterested fellows¡¯ curious eyes. ¡®¡¯And your aim, Baybur. I am not one to tolerate any danger to my rule,¡¯¡¯ He warned, ¡®¡¯But I do not care about what happens after me. Whether my reign will last until I die, or I will die before it lasts more than a decade, I do not believe you will pose any threat to the throne in my lifetime.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Even though it seems that is your intention, Hikmet said you were a genius, a clever man, and I hope you understand what that praise means for me. I say this not as Mehmed, but as Sultan Mehmed.¡¯¡¯


    Baybur felt his heart stir, he clenched his hand into a fist. He wanted to answer, but the fear of being spotted made him unable to rebuke. Should he voice his opposition, still, even if people noticed? No, that would be detrimental to both of them, more so to Baybur. Him being suspected of a spy or a mole in the Hearth would lower the already unfavorable opinions of the Sultan among the landholders and Pashas. The janissaries suppressed in late Sultan¡¯s reign were also waiting to see what kind of ruler they had right now, and him ruining the Sultan Mehmed¡¯s still-in-construction image would result only in his downfall.


    Who knew whether he would be among those that were put on spikes?


    ¡®¡¯You do know, Hikmet knows, that trader beside Muzaffer knows, everyone that saw me grow and sit on this throne knows my desire. Even that Halil Pasha!¡¯¡¯ Baybur heard the Sultan gnash his teeth. ¡®¡¯I will prove myself, conquer that city, then hang that damned man on a lone tree for his body to rot. But you-¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯-You, Baybur, can¡¯t do anything before that happens. I won¡¯t allow it, and if you do, I won¡¯t let those small, new, Hashashis you feed with that Danishmend live. They won¡¯t go beyond their teens.¡¯¡¯


    Baybur froze.


    ¡®¡¯I¡¯ll protect your sister, too,¡¯¡¯ Sultan added after a while, when the song in the background rose like waves again. ¡®¡¯All I want is a state of tranquility until I get that city, the head of that Chandarl? Halil, and write my name in history.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Do.You.Understand?¡¯¡¯


    A horrifying silence descended on both for a moment. Baybur¡¯s fingers twitched, his heartbeat fastened. His eyes searched a refuge, swimming from one side to another in the sea of music and thoughts.


    His gaze met with Arzu¡¯s, then his heart felt a mountain of ice drop over it. Their stars shone off each other for that single instant, Baybur calmed down.


    Baybur plucked the untouched baklava from his plate and took a bite, nodding as if he loved the taste.


    ¡®¡¯Good...then continue to listen.¡¯¡¯ Sultan finished and no longer spoke. Baybur continued to chew on the baklava, yet his eyes still focused on Arzu¡¯s gaze. And her¡¯s on him.


    He didn¡¯t see ?etin Pasha look at him with a troubled smile.


    *********


    After the Danishmends finished their performance and Sultan told a few farewell and congratulatory words, he went back into his palace and the gates opened. People flocked the hall and left towards their carriages in absentminded hurriness, no gaze met each other except the accidental change of their point of view.


    Baybur climbed the carriage together with Caner and Hikmet, sat beside the window and gazed outside. The carriage from here had a perfect view of ?etin Pasha¡¯s vehicle and its window, alongside its interior. Baybur couldn¡¯t help but focus on the figure stepping inside the carriage from the other side.


    Her hands grasped the railings and she put her feet down in a calm manner, Baybur observed. Then she approached the side and sat next to the window, then turned her eyes to gaze at him.


    Two stars met again and this time, there was the hint of warmth between the collisions of light.


    Her tranquil face broke into a slight smile, then suddenly turned back to look, only to see ?etin Pasha standing at the door, talking with someone. Baybur didn¡¯t quite see who, but it seemed like Arzu relaxed at the notion and faced him again. She smiled again.


    Baybur couldn¡¯t resist the urge, he also smiled. If their eyes were celestial stars greeting each other, then their curved lips were the planets around them waving at each other. From one planet to another, the stars would be seen without obstruction.


    ¡®¡¯DEH!¡¯¡¯ A yell sounded from the front and the horses pulling the carriage spurred forth with a tremor. Baybur¡¯s eyes widened a bit, he quickly peeked at the front and saw they started to move. His head moved backward to see Arzu still smiling, her lips parted from afar as if to say something, but in the end no voice reached. Baybur couldn¡¯t read what she said as they pulled apart from each other.


    Baybur reached out with his hand to the ceiling of the carriage and he held tight, then took his body half-out of the window to look back. She was looking at his way, her eyebrows raised in slight astoundment before sloping down again. Baybur opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out as well. He stood there, half-dangling and watching under the winds striking his face, looking at the palace and her silhouette recede into the far, blurry landscape until no one could be distinguished from each other.


    Baybur pulled himself back into the carriage at last, the cold wind stopped scratching his face. When seated, he snuck a peek at Caner to see him smiling wide. His teacher, Hikmet, also half-pried his eyes open to gaze at him with amusement.


    Baybur felt his heart skip a beat.


    Not much later they passed through the palace¡¯s surroundings and entered the commercial area again, yells for sells and haggling pedestrian¡¯s voices dominated the ears. Footsteps rang louder than even that, even though the street wasn¡¯t even that wide to allow people flock like birds. They passed with ease through the street and stopped in front of the tavern Baybur and Caner rented. Both bid farewell to the frowning Hikmet, who questioned why they didn¡¯t stay at his place, which they didn¡¯t reply well. After the carriage departed with the escort of two mounted Sipahis they stepped inside the tavern.


    The owner welcomed them again and led them to their room himself, climbing the stairs and opening a locked room at the leftmost side near the open balcony. The sun still had at most an hour until it dove down and moon swam up, so they chose to rest for some more time before going down. The owner informed there would be a scientist from the city of Baghdad and a poet who traveled with him from Alexandria after sunset. They would give some kind of a lecture-discussion thing to the available patrons who ate their meals in the meantime, so they were free to attend. If they bought a meal, of course.


    Throwing that back to his mind, Baybur followed behind Caner and stepped inside the room. They had two separate beds, one placed under the open window the other strapped to the wall at the side. There was a wardrobe leaning to the walls between them, owner told them they were free to store anything they wanted, and a small chest beside it for the same use. There was also a small and round ground table at the center with three cushions placed around it.


    While Caner moved to sit on one of the cushions to inspect his reed flute, Baybur went for the chest and opened it. His small baggage of clothes were still in. He clutched it and unraveled the tie around the baggage, a wood-inscribed hilt appeared between the folded shirts, Baybur pulled it.


    His yatagan appeared alongside its sheath, Baybur sighed and put it back. He turned around to swipe his gaze through the room once more. Everything looked normal, except the slight red beams of sunlight sneaking from the window. It is already sunset? Baybur raised a brow and walked forth, came beside the window and grasped the sides to lean forward.


    A slight breeze fumbled his hair back and forced him to blink, then he looked forward.


    The Sun seemed indignant about leaving its place to the shrewd moon once more, so much that the red on its round body increased to an braggable amount. There were no mountains near to shield the moon from the onslaught of the sun, so there were no dark curtains enveloping the city. Only red and a trace of aquamarine sky beyond the horizon.


    Baybur felt the wind turn a tad bit warmer at the sight, but a deep cold sprang from his heart while thinking.


    Stars, stars, stars- Baybur clenched his hands, the wood crumbled and fine cracks appeared on the beams connecting the windows.


    How can I fall in love?


    *********


    In the main road of the town, a cheering crowd of hundreds of men and women sent yells and waved their fists in the air at the regiments of soldiers passing through.


    These soldiers had bows strapped to their red cloaks and hung on the side of their belt were swords with curved ends. Under their clothes and baggy trousers the clanks and clings of mail armor could be heard with each of their rumbling steps, whilst the slight breeze in the air picked up their white headset sloping down to their waist.


    Flanking the famed Janissaries were cavalry raiders, donning brownish chainmail and clutching lances in their grasps, and further down the ranks at the forefront was a man in extravagant armor. His size could be considered gigantic, and to suit his towering size even his horse was a notch bulkier than others. A mace almost as tall as three quarters of a man placed in his grip, he led the small part of the Ottoman army through the town.


    He was called Rumeli Beylerbeyi, the single man above all Pashas, Aghas, Sanjak-Beys, whom all reported to him and was in his command, and in turn he was the next-highest person beside the Grand Vizier and the Sultan. There were only two who equaled him in rank, Rum Beylerbeyi and Anatolia Beylerbeyi. Together these three controlled the greatest provinces of the land under Sultan¡¯s rule and in the case of a call to arms, they were the first to be answered before the Sultan. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Baybur¡¯s disappointment couldn¡¯t be described at these prospects¡¯ reality. Was a man who almost equaled the king just a brute with fancy armor? Was he really a sole man in the lead of a army and nothing else? And the soldiers following behind him: Delis, Azabs, Janissaries; and far in front of him that passed not long ago through the streets: Derbendjis, Cebecis, of whom some still sprinkled around in the army passing through here, and pilgrim surgeons from hebrew and muslim descent.


    Honestly, Baybur thought, were it not for the Mehter March blasting his ears he couldn¡¯t imagine how...dead these expressions were. Who were these? They weren¡¯t the Turkish soldiers that befell on the Prince Lazar three decades ago. They weren¡¯t the soldiers who fought with Lazar¡¯s son, King Stefan in the Crusade of Nicopolis, and routed the crusaders¡¯ armies. They were walking corpses with indifferent expressions, waving their weapons and tingling their armors as they went.


    They were an eyesore, to say the least.


    Baybur quietly turned his head, coiled his hands around his father¡¯s head above his shoulders, and slightly pinched to get his attention. He knew he couldn¡¯t hear quite good in this commotion of noises.


    ¡®¡¯Alexander?¡¯¡¯ His father, Cain, asked. His eyes slanted upward to look in the eyes of his soon, then chuckled. ¡®¡¯You too? I¡¯m also bored,¡¯¡¯ He said, ¡®¡¯Should we go back?¡¯¡¯


    Baybur didn¡¯t hear quite right but understood what his father meant, he nodded. ¡®¡¯Move out, please, one second!¡¯¡¯ Baybur started shouting to the crowd of cheering puppets, they parted ways while casting smiles and giggles at him. Soon they were out of the encirclement and the noises started tuning down a tad bit, though not enough to completely disappear. ¡®¡¯Want to get down?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Yes,¡¯¡¯ Baybur patted his father¡¯s shoulders, he crouched down to let Baybur down. Baybur climbed down and rubbed the slight dirty mark of his sandals on his father¡¯s back, then patted once more.


    ¡®¡¯Thank you,¡¯¡¯ Cain smiled, ¡®¡¯Want to head back home?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯No,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, looking down at his bandaged hand. ¡®¡¯I want to show this to Caner and his big brother.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯To warn them?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯To brag,¡¯¡¯ Baybur laughed, then gave a quick hug to his father. ¡®¡¯I¡¯ll be back soon, don¡¯t miss me fast!¡¯¡¯ He said and sprang into a flurry of steps that turned into a sprint. He took a peek back to see his father already turning back to the square, a deep frown splattered on his face.


    Liar- Baybur stuck out a tongue at his back, then sped off.


    He rounded the streets through the square¡¯s alleys and approached a small sized cottage next to the stone chapel of the town. Although the house seemed older than the chapel, the latter had existed for half a century here owing to its stable foundations and superb exterior. There were seven stone beams thicker than three adults¡¯ thighs, which turned out to be towers from up close, and behind these towers were half-domes rising from the center. Stained glasses, a favorite of many Christian architects both Orthodox and Catholic, covered the windows of the attic and the basement. In comparison, Caner¡¯s house paled like a fish taken out of water.


    After gazing at the structure for some time, Baybur approached the doors of the cottage and knocked twice. A few rustlings sounded, then the sweet voice of a woman. ¡®¡¯Who is it?¡¯¡¯ She called, yet without waiting for an answer opened the door. As her voice might give away, he looked only around nineteen to twenty, and had raven black hair with a skin slightly paler than that, showing her arabic-turkish mix descent. There were many like her, or families like theirs, yet almost all were pureblood Turkmens, as the Sultanate called. That could be the reason his family got along better with them, since a huge divide between the Turkish and Serbian ancestral families appeared not long after the conquest of the region, and their mixed descent made their relationship¡¯s dynamic quite weird.


    He was happy with that, at least.


    ¡®¡¯Alexander, welcome!¡¯¡¯ She spoke, though her accent and words were quite slurry. But Baybur didn¡¯t comment on that. After all, only Caner was fluent in Serbian and English apart from Turkish. His sister was working hard enough to learn, which some others should have taken a lesson, Baybur thought.


    ¡®¡¯Hello sister,¡¯¡¯ He said, waving his hands at the veiled woman. ¡®¡¯Is Caner here?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Caner out-¡¯¡¯ She said, then exclaimed and pointed at his back. ¡®¡¯He came, seeing?¡¯¡¯


    Baybur followed her finger and saw Caner trodding towards their house between two men twice his size. One was his brother, a man almost as tall as the Beylerbey from before and the other was his teacher form Anatolia, Hikmet. Hikmet looked around his middle-ages with very few strands of grey in his hair. But he was known to be a great Danishmend of old age- or a person involved in art, and was the person who taught Caner both languages.


    ¡®¡¯Alexander!¡¯¡¯ Caner saw him from afar, stopping for a second before rushing. Hikmet and Caner¡¯s brother smiled and waved at him as well, Baybur responded the same. Caner came beside him in the meantime and reached out for his wounded hand, took it in his grasp. His eyes shrunk then largened, ¡®¡¯Oooh-¡¯¡¯ he looked charmed.


    ¡®¡¯It looks painful!¡¯¡¯ He commented.


    ¡®¡¯It is-¡¯¡¯ Baybur nodded, retracting his hand. ¡®¡¯I almost cried when I burnt it.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Liar! Brother said your tears had turned into a lake from pain.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Your brother is the liar!¡¯¡¯ Baybur refuted, waving his hand in front of Caner. ¡®¡¯Touch, it doesn¡¯t hurt at all.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Let me see-¡¯¡¯ Caner said and stabbed with his finger to Baybur¡¯s wounded palm. Just as it was going to come into contact, a robust hand came between and squeezed Caner¡¯s finger. ¡®¡¯Ow!¡¯¡¯ Caner retreated, yelping, and tripped on his heels. Hikmet caught him from behind to not let him fall, which revealed the interrupter to be his brother.


    ¡®¡¯You call me a liar? Stinky mouth!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯You are stinky mouth, lets speak again in ten years! I¡¯ll see who is taller then.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯You¡¯ll do, Caner,¡¯¡¯ Hikmet whispered, then raised the boy from his embrace and dropped on the ground. ¡®¡¯Now go play with Alexander, we¡¯ll prepare the breakfast in the meantime.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Okay!¡¯¡¯ Caner¡¯s mood took a revolution and a smile crept up to his face. ¡®¡¯Alexander, come, let¡¯s go to the hill.¡¯¡¯ He called and started running. Baybur laughed and followed behind him, yet didn¡¯t forget to sneak a peek behind this time as well.


    He saw Caner¡¯s teacher, brother, and sister all watching their depart with wide, warm smiles. Baybur, although his body moved, couldn¡¯t control his mind and froze for a second. Their figures faded into blurs not long after, yet they were still looking their way, and Baybur felt the affectionate intents on him still. He had goosebumps all over his body and felt something creep his spine to his scalp. In fear he turned and didn¡¯t look back before running off, trying to catch up to the Caner.


    *********


    Their small game of chase didn¡¯t last long, at most two or three minutes before the lean slope leading to the hill¡¯s top came into view. The hill wasn¡¯t out of the city by much and roads from other towns and villages integrated into one before the intersection near the hill. This meant they had a great view of the surrounding landscape, mostly consisting of lush green plains and the hazy silhouette of the flowing Great Morava to the southeast, though it only looked like a thin blue line on the horizon.


    They climbed quick with their roughened feets and hands, sometimes plucking random boulders and sides of the trees to push themselves further. There weren¡¯t more trees than a few dozen, so their sight didn¡¯t suffer from any blindspots or so. With their breaths roughening, as their nine-year-old physiques couldn¡¯t handle the burden of a long sprint, and dust being kicked from their now shallowing steps, they reached the top and let out deep breaths.


    ¡®¡¯Hooo!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Hoooo!¡¯¡¯


    They took deep breaths, then walked to the steep edge of the greenish hill facing the roads. Other than the pathways known to them and the stomped grass of the plain, now there was a moving giant of thousands of men marching forward. The flowing sea of red and white seemed as mighty from afar as they did from up close. Even their footsteps, Baybur plopped down on the soft grass and listened closely, rumbled like a slumbering oxen.


    Caner yawned, rubbing his forearms of the dirt, then slipped near him as well to lay down. His toes wriggled back and forth whilst gazing up.


    ¡®¡¯It wasn¡¯t interesting,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, looking at the departing soldiers. ¡®¡¯They seem bad.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯You mean ill?¡¯¡¯ Caner asked. ¡®¡¯Their faces looked white like a scared chicken. And they were all frowning with all that music!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Yeah,¡¯¡¯ Baybur stretched his legs, feeling the pain go away, ¡®¡¯My ears hurt from that. How do they charge out with it?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯The footsteps are loud enough for me,¡¯¡¯ Caner said. ¡®¡¯So it seems useless.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Perhaps it is for the enemy, not them.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯It could be...¡¯¡¯ Caner¡¯s words trailed off. The wind on top of the hill brushed past their short, almost bald scalps and tickled their cheek. A faint shade of red appeared on both of their noses. It is cold- Baybur thought, taking another breath. The air rushed into his lungs while piercing his innards with chilly waves.


    He decided to lay down. It proved to be effective...somewhat. At least the wind only got his belly and his nose, rather than his whole torso. But them sweating all the way to come over here didn¡¯t help the fact. Baybur was aware of it as well, so he rolled around to get the beads of stinking liquid off from his body. Caner cast him a cursory glance, then retracted back to stare at the sky.


    Baybur saw his eyes in the midst of his rolls. He stopped and rolled back to his place, letting out a puff, and looked up. The clouds seemed to become like a colony of bugs rather than a humongous whole. Rather than the singular silver behemoth, now it was a collection of hundreds of smokey white particles floating forward. Even then they managed to block out the sun from lightening the grey air. Sunlight didn¡¯t seem too apprehensive about it though, it gave off a calm shine that slipped between a few clouds and nothing else.


    ¡®¡¯How fast clouds go?¡¯¡¯ Caner asked suddenly, turning to look at him. Baybur lowered his gaze to ponder for a moment, yet he couldn¡¯t find the answer. Another question appeared instead of an answer.


    ¡®¡¯Is it the clouds going or the earth going?¡¯¡¯ He asked back, but his gaze was still on the sky. Which one was it? If it was the earth moving, then did the hill move as well? The roads? How would they stay in the same place if the earth moved as well? The city? The buildings would collapse if their foundations were misplaced, wouldn¡¯t they?


    Then what if, instead, the clouds were the ones moving. Where were they going? Where did they come from? Were the puffs of humongous mists they saw from another place, or were they the same that somehow transformed to another shape over time? How frequently they transformed, if so, and how long did it take them to reform?


    Without waiting, Baybur passed these questions to Caner right as the thought of them. Caner closed his eyes, kept silent. Baybur didn¡¯t answer as well. The sound of the faint rumbling and the breeze patting their bellies proved enough of a company. Perhaps a few seconds, perhaps a few minutes, they didn¡¯t know how long passed before Caner opened his eyes and Baybur stood up.


    ¡®¡¯I don¡¯t know.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I don¡¯t know.¡¯¡¯


    They both answered at the same time. Their eyes caught each others¡¯ gazes, then they giggled.


    ¡®¡¯I knew you didn¡¯t know.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I also knew,¡¯¡¯ Baybur pouted, then his expression brightened. ¡®¡¯What about love, then? Did you find an answer for it?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I asked brother and sister-¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯That¡¯s unfair, Caner!¡¯¡¯ Baybur stuck out a tongue, the other boy only smirked and continued talking.


    ¡®¡¯-They said you can¡¯t fall in love if you know what love is. If you know what love is, then it is no longer love.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯...what does it mean?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I don¡¯t know. Perhaps you can¡¯t marry if you love someone, or something like that?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Could be,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, then his ears pricked. He shot to his feet, Caner did the same, and their eyes focused on the back of the leading army of red and white. The tail of the beast could be seen now. And the rumbling was now almost non-existent. It didn¡¯t last much longer, ten seconds passed and together with the rear of the army the sound disappeared from their senses. They both stood silent for some more time, then looked at each other.


    ¡®¡¯Let¡¯s go back,¡¯¡¯ Caner said. ¡®¡¯Sister must have prepared something.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Okay!¡¯¡¯ Baybur nodded and followed behind Caner now carefully climbing down the hill. In the meantime, his mind was still on those last few words.


    If you know what love is, it is no longer love...


    *********


    ¡®¡¯...that is why Mongols are seen with discontent there.¡¯¡¯ The man from Baghdad finished his words on the seat near the host, innkeeper. He nodded alongside with the scientist, causing their rather well-kept beards to sway together, and clapped twice to show his admiration.


    ¡®¡¯Really, I didn¡¯t expect...¡¯¡¯ Their voices and the discussion about the Beytu¡¯l Hikme¡¯s birth, improvement, impacts, then its destruction reached the few seated man around them quite clear, but Baybur didn¡¯t have the heart to listen. There were only murmurs in his ears, the prickling breeze reminiscent of that hill, and the faint taste of purple grapes left in his mouth. He snuck a slow peek at the Caner next to him. He stood with his legs and arms crossed, his beloved reed flute not in sight. He sniffed every once in awhile with his eyes focused upfront.


    Too strange, Baybur thought, retracting his head to gaze into his burnt palm. A four pointed star spread its corners in a tight and thin line. It covered one-fifth of his hand with a blistering red scar. How can I fall in love, even? He felt anger rising in his heart again, his chest started heaving no sooner than they sprang up. But Baybur didn¡¯t give them a chance to rise, he didn¡¯t dare to in a small crowd like this. He took a deep breath, then let it out. Like that-he blew all unreasonable hatred into the air.


    But the root was still there, so the leaves continued to sprout. He had to cut that root of doubt in his heart, the belief that his heart was incapable of feeling love, for he knew what a distasteful and agonizing thing it was. The love between princess Wallada and her lover Ibn Zaydun was, perhaps, a great example to how he felt about what love was. Though two were both poets, they were also in the political sphere of their vicious compatriots at that time. They could express themselves on a much higher and intimate level than two soon-to-be wed youths, or than a soldier and his childhood sweetheart waiting behind the frontlines. Yet the bond they thought so highly of was broken by a mere slave of poot backgrounds, with lust and earthly desire. All by the man himself, and for what reason? A change of heart? The sin he accused Wallada of that compelled him to break that thin thread called love, what was it?


    It was troubling. It was irrational. And what was more unbelievable than that? Him regretting it.


    After being exiled only did Zaydun give his all being to writing poems. Not those that he slandered and blamed and insulted Wallada, nor those that he taunted and framed and belittled Ibn Abdus, Wallada¡¯s later lover and his political competitor. He wrote actual poems, some say, those that made him a poet more than a vizier, a cheater, a man with an unsteady heart. He wrote about his regret over leaving Cordoba, and about his lost princess. And they were, in some sense, also what gave worth to her letters of love to him. But was this enough of a virtue to cleanse what he did?


    It seemed so, as the duo reconciled when both approached their seventh decade. The love never rekindled, however. Only an ember, some records of their letters, and exaggerated stories of their past remained.


    So what was love for these two, in the end?


    Baybur raised his head to look above. His eyes devoured the flickering flames of the candles stuck between chandelier¡¯s hollow, oval rings. The sounds slowly rushed back to his ears, flowed from middle-section into the inner parts, then reached cochlea and spread soundwaves that vibrated stereocilia. His nerves sent the signals, his brain cooled down from the furious thinking and slowed to process the information coming through.


    There are more questions than answers, Baybur lowered his head and put his burnt palm before his eyes, And I can¡¯t find a solution to any of them...


    *********


    Around noon the next day, Baybur and Caner left the inn and parted ways at its front. They weren¡¯t bidding farewells so soon, there were matters of their school in Bursa to talk about and the time he would set out wasn¡¯t decided. At least yet. that was also the reason he was visiting the palace for, and from what Sultan said he would welcome both him and ?etin Pasha together into the audience of the Diwan. To meet the highest ranking politicians and decision makers of the realm gave his heart a restless wave he didn¡¯t feel for some time. When was the last time, he wondered after sending off Caner to his master Hikmet¡¯s house.


    Baybur walked off towards the western side of the city through a small amount of open-air vendors and shops, with few houses for accommodation available in sight. Buildings of carved stone, however, were abundant with arches and delicate calligraphies around their pillars and entrances. Not far from his path, at most fifty steps away, he saw women dangling their bodies from the windows between the arching beams, signing to the tune of a ash?k seated below the pillars. His steps faltered for a moment, they slowed down and came to a halt right before the man playing saz. The man didn¡¯t raise his head when Baybur focused on him.


    His scrubby arms were half-covered in a verdant gown, under that a simple white garment to cover his belly. His eyes were closed and from his enigmatic expression, it was clear his senses only captured the mournful voices of the women above him.


    ¡®¡¯Is there no cure to my trouble, I wonder?


    Is there no end to patience¡¯s measure, I wonder?


    Seal me from head to toe, I¡¯m burning,


    Is there no end to burning, I wonder?


    Smiles a foe to what I cry,


    Does that heathen not have faith, too?


    The arrow of your dimple pierces my chest,


    Look into my heart, see if remains the tip.¡¯¡¯


    Baybur looked around him, to the moving people back and forth between the streets. To the unmoving glances and ceaseless steps hurrying to another place than here. Did they not hear these mournful cries? He took a step back, cast his eyes to the man busy with the strings of soul. Each time his fingers slipped from a string, Baybur felt a thread tug at his heart.


    Sister¡¯s marriage...Baybur¡¯s pupils trembled before he closed his eyes shut. He stood there, unmoving, his figure weird and bothering to people trying to pass through the streets. A few more seconds passed, then the melody ended and he felt someone tap on his knees.


    ¡®¡¯Move on, brother,¡¯¡¯ Baybur saw the Ash?k wave his hand. ¡®¡¯This isn¡¯t the place for enlightenment, let me cleanse myself in peace.¡¯¡¯


    Baybur nodded at the man and put a hand over his left chest. ¡®¡¯Thank you,¡¯¡¯ He said, ¡®¡¯And may Allah help you.¡¯¡¯


    Ash?k didn¡¯t say anymore and closed his eyes again, the shouts of the women from the windows came not long after. He grumbled before striking the strings again, a new song started pouring out of his soul and these women¡¯s tongues.


    But Baybur didn¡¯t stay to listen, he had left long before they began...


    *********


    Outside the entrance to the hall of the throne room, Baybur entrusted his weapon to the guards and stepped inside. He moved fast and reached right next to the locked gates with another pair of guards standing alert, and the face of someone expected.


    ¡®¡¯My pasha,¡¯¡¯ Baybur put a hand over his left chest and gave a slight bow. ¡®¡¯Blessed days.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Oh, Baybur,¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha smiled and approached him, patted his shoulders twice. ¡®¡¯Welcome. Why are you outside rather than inside? You ought to protect the Sultan as his guard, no?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I was allowed to go back,¡¯¡¯ He said, ¡®¡¯My Sultan approved me staying outside for some time since our depart seems imminent.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Hm, Hm,¡¯¡¯ ?etin pasha nodded in understanding and retracted his hand from Baybur¡¯s shoulder. He seemed to realize his uncomfortable mood. ¡®¡¯Did something happen?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Nothing noteworthy, my pasha,¡¯¡¯ Baybur shook his head. ¡®¡¯Just exhaustion, thank you for your care.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Mind is as important as the body, Baybur, don¡¯t dismiss it as mere exhaustion.¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha said, and seemed like he would follow with a chain of thoughts but the gates rumbled before them. They both turned to face the creaking doors, at the same time they squealed and opened wide to reveal a man who both knew, one close one as a simple acquaintance.


    ¡®¡¯My my, Salih, were you the one who kept me waiting so long?¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha smiled and greeted the man, who showed a wry smile.


    ¡®¡¯Sorry, ?etin Pasha. I also didn¡¯t think I would stay that...long,¡¯¡¯ Salih pasha said.


    ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t expect anything from court works, else it makes you sick in your stomach from frustration. But it is tough though, no wonder Sultans are always quite patient.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Indeed,¡¯¡¯ Salih Pasha nodded, his gaze swept by Baybur. ¡®¡¯I shall take my leave, then, as I¡¯ll need to prepare my luggage and equipment. I¡¯ll see you later in the field, my pasha,¡¯¡¯ At here he gazed at Baybur, ¡®¡¯And you, Baybur, I entrust ?etin Pasha. I hope you protect him well.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯He might as well be protecting me,¡¯¡¯ Baybur jested, smiling, ¡®¡¯I¡¯m of no match to him.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Farewell,¡¯¡¯ Salih Pasha smiled without commenting and departed with a stack of state documents in his hand to the outside. From inside an attendant came and called them to the court, they obliged. As they stepped in, the attendant passed them and closed the door from behind with an echoing rumble, causing both to look up at the Sultan and the room.


    Now that the decoratives and the tables didn¡¯t take up any more space, the grandness of the throne room seemed to increase in Baybur¡¯s eyes. His pupils shrank, however, when his gaze swept by the stained glasses and reached below the stairs of Sultan¡¯s throne. There stood two men, whom he both knew from appearance.


    ¡®¡¯I¡¯ll be departing in two days,¡¯¡¯ Sultan beckoned with his hand to his feet, or near the Chandarl? Halil Pasha, for them to move. ¡®¡¯There is not much to discuss, so let me be quick.¡¯¡¯


    Baybur and ?etin pasha approached the grand vizier and Umeyyet agha, exchanged glances with both while receiving a scroll from the former. It had a fresh seal on it strapped to bind its top to bottom and the smell of ink still lingered. ?etin Pasha took it for a moment, then passed it for Baybur to hold. Taking it into his hands, Baybur took a step back and lowered his head. Before the eyes of Chandarl?, he had to be mindful of some...etiquette.


    ¡®¡¯The ship for the diplomatic body is prepared at the Enez and the gifts are settled inside,¡¯¡¯ Chandarl? spoke in Sultan¡¯s stead, Baybur couldn¡¯t see Sultan¡¯s reaction. ¡®¡¯We expect the Doge Foscari to accept non-aggression quite easily, yet precautions are to be taken. There will be two more ships that will escort you out of the Aegean sea, then you will proceed alone through Mediterranean to Ionian and Adriatic.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯A single ship throughout three seas? I won¡¯t even question the danger of the route, Halil Pasha, but since when did you become a naval expert to decide on a pathway?¡¯¡¯ This comment had more value than it seemed. ?etin Pasha himself was someone educated in both land and sea military arts. Though the Sultanate had no real fleet to be proud of, and as a result their naval prowess lacked compared to their compatriots, their progress in the art of battle still reflected on the sea. So while he had no experience of a naval battle, ?etin pasha had more qualifications than to simply question a only culture-literate sycophant vizier.


    ¡®¡¯Contrary to you, dear ?etin Pasha, I still have a working mind that keeps learning,¡¯¡¯ Baybur frowned at the remark, and he heard a faint snort above him.


    ¡®¡¯Four ships until mediterranean, then two, will escort them until they are out of the Ionian sea,¡¯¡¯ Sultan Mehmed said, ¡®¡¯And I¡¯ll increase your entourage to fifteen men, each will come travel with you both on land and the sea.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯My Sultan,¡¯¡¯ Halil Pasha raised his hand and waved it down, it was too easy to see his intention to dramatise the conversation. ¡®¡¯The only piracy happens near North African coasts, and this size of an entourage will definitely attract more pirates to it.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯A larger fleet will make it easier to scare off some petty gold-esurientes,¡¯¡¯ ?etin pasha replied, ¡®¡¯ And unless they are looking to drown in their own blood, no pirate fleet will approach a diplomatic envoy of the Sultanate.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯That is the truth,¡¯¡¯ Sultan Mehmed voiced his agreement, ¡®¡¯Get prepared to move, I expect you to mount those ships by tomorrow morning and reach there at most three weeks later, if the weather is favorable.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Also,¡¯¡¯ He added, ¡®¡¯?etin Pasha, I¡¯ll be back in no time from Anatolia for...¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I understand, my Sultan,¡¯¡¯ ?etin pasha replied and gave a bow with his hand on his left chest. ¡®¡¯Then we¡¯ll take our leave.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Farewell,¡¯¡¯ Sultan waved his hand again and the gates opened with rumbles.


    How do they know when to open? Eavesdropping? Baybur took two steps back with ?etin pasha, then they both turned back and walked off. The gates closed behind them, a last squeal as an alert, and with a few dozen steps they were out of the hallway and in the square before the entrance.


    The sunlight cast their shadows towards the dark entrance to the palace whilst they moved and stopped before a grand carriage. It was ?etin Pasha¡¯s carriage, obviously, as the driver dropped from the seat in front to open the door. ?etin Pasha turned to look at Baybur with his deep brown eyes. His pupils seemed to have a hard time adjusting their size and place, they flickered back and forth between Baybur¡¯s feet, his torso, and his face.


    Baybur raised a cautious brow, not as a sign of dissatisfaction as one might recognize, but as a soft reminder to the ?etin pasha about the implication of it. A prolonged silence between the two might give wrong ideas to wrong people, especially the pair of guards sneaking wary glances at the scroll in his hands. I see...Sultan is right to hate that man.


    ¡®¡¯Baybur, accompany me a bit longer,¡¯¡¯ ?etin pasha said at last, a smile appeared on his dry, old lips. ¡®¡¯Would you?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I wouldn¡¯t dare refuse,¡¯¡¯ Baybur nodded and presented the scroll, yet ?etin Pasha¡¯s hands brushed them down to keep it away from himself. From the reflection of his eyes, Baybur inspected, he saw a man standing behind not far from them. Though blurry, as how it was supposed to be, and quite unrecognizable because of the distorted form, the long white turban slanting down to the man¡¯s waist gave away his identity.


    Baybur didn¡¯t voice any more opinions and gave a slight bow, ?etin pasha climbed the carriage at his notion. Baybur followed after and winked at the carriage driver, then closed the door. He took a seat facing ?etin Pasha and pulled the small curtains around the windows to cover the insides. They heard, now, two different footsteps. One rushed to the front and with a faint tremor landed on the driver''s seat, the other seemed to rush towards them with haste.


    ¡®¡¯DEH!¡¯¡¯ The driver yelled, whipping of the leashes whistled on front and after a small rumble the hooves of the horses started stomping the ground. Dull impacts quickened and right before the other footsteps could arrive, the driver moved forward.


    ¡®¡¯One moment-¡¯¡¯ A voice called out, almost as dull as the tinkering wheels, yet quite young, but the driver didn¡¯t hold on. The carriage¡¯s speed increased and the rest of the unknown man¡¯s sentence disintegrated between the other sounds.


    ¡®¡¯Hah-¡¯¡¯ Baybur let out a breath, focused his gaze, and presented the scroll once more. Then a hand pushed it back, again. ¡®¡¯My Pasha?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Hold onto that for a bit longer,¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha replied and slightly opened his legs to stretch. Baybur didn¡¯t speak or ask why for the moment, for he saw ?etin Pasha pondering over something. His gaze, as he did just a while ago, glazed over his body again.


    As any intelligent and social soldier would do, Baybur also had quite a few connections with...not so welcomed sources of information. The few slave traders that kept christian enemies prisoner talked more than once about some high ranked nobles strange desires. Married men, even, came before many of those, and old men surpassed them in that aspect. But as a man knowing many of the Sultanate¡¯s pashas well from the standpoint of a cunning informant, and having quite discerning eyes to see people¡¯s mood-or as he thought- Baybur didn¡¯t sense any...lust, from ?etin Pasha. He didn¡¯t expect to even do so, to be honest, but the intense scrutiny of his inspection inevitably let some weird ideas grow.


    Luckily, most of these cases, as people told, happened around the western lands and almost never in Sultanate¡¯s lands. But almost never wasn¡¯t never.


    ¡®¡¯Baybur-¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha opened his mouth after a while, at the same time reached for the curtains to let some air inside. ¡®¡¯What do you think about my daughter?¡¯¡¯


    A faint breeze gushed inside to scratch both of their cheeks and lick their hair, and did as it intended with quite a cold touch. The faint flickers of light also rushed from the aperture between the half-open curtain, but it only managed to shower Baybur in its glow.


    ¡®¡¯???????¡¯¡¯ Baybur froze.


    ¡®¡¯I mean Arzu,¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha continued, he flashed another warm smile at her name¡¯s mention. ¡®¡¯What do you think of her? Did she seem like a good woman to you?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯She, well...¡¯¡¯ Baybur flustered at the mention of her name, as well as the nonchalant attitude of the supposed father. Was it not that big of a deal to ask a young man whether he was interested in his daughter? Did Baybur have some kind of broken common sense?


    ¡®¡¯Well?¡¯¡¯


    Baybur took a deep breath at the urge, then exhaled. ¡®¡¯Sorry,¡¯¡¯ He said and took a few more deep breaths. He didn¡¯t like this feeling of being exposed. It was foreign to him, one he only felt in his childhood and in his years at the novice hearths. As he grew up, and his wisdom flourished with his age and experiences, he never fell into a situation where he felt the tense nervousness of being seen through. Yet, the moment he came to the capital with the hopes of stepping on a higher stage befitting to him, he lived the same thing twice in a row.


    So he had to calm down, that was the first priority, and since he had been recognized it didn¡¯t matter if he tried in open or in secret. He wouldn¡¯t be able to do it anyway.


    A few more seconds passed and Baybur recollected himself. He pondered for a moment.


    ¡®¡¯She...is a fine lady,¡¯¡¯ Baybur replied, ¡®¡¯Her beauty might be praised a lot, and she indeed deserves any praise on that aspect, but her calm demeanor seemed nobler than many other ladies I saw.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯So you have taken a liking to her. May I assume that?¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha¡¯s smile widened.


    This time it was Baybur¡¯s turn to swallow this man from head to toe with his gaze. Yes, why do you ask that? He could inquire, but that wouldn¡¯t be much of a good presentation of himself.


    Why do I worry about that? Baybur suddenly stopped his train of thought. Why did he, indeed, feel nervous about presenting himself to ?etin Pasha now? Was there really a need? No, he did plenty of exposition for the Sanjak-beys and aghas and Pashas in the banquet, that was enough in itself as a mean of intimidation. What was the source, then?


    I¡¯m...Baybur clenched his fists.


    ¡®¡¯Forgive my insolence, my Pasha, I indeed got swept by her looks for some time. But I have no intention to get punished by my Orta¡¯s agha any soon-¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Or strain my relationship with you right before an important state matter.¡¯¡¯


    ?etin Pasha didn¡¯t react any different, his smile only condensed into a raised thin lip. ¡®¡¯I can request your admittance to me, Baybur, if you are willing,¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha said, Baybur froze for a second time.


    ¡®¡¯Celibacy? It is worth nothing. Do you know how many aghas I know have a family living in some great estate? More than a dozen. What about Second in commands¡¯ and third in commands¡¯? At least over two hundred. Your position is a precarious but prized one, Baybur, and any punishment you will receive for wanting a family of your own won¡¯t exceed a dozen whips.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯If you are still worried about that, I will say again, I can take you under my wings. I can make you still exist in your Orta, be a janissary, and let you be known as my household¡¯s bodyguard. Or the Sultan can do the same, as he intends to do so,¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha rubbed his crescent beard at here, ¡®¡¯ but he doesn¡¯t have a beautiful daughter that mesmerized you, does he?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯This is pushing boundaries, my Pasha,¡¯¡¯ Baybur muttered. He flung the scroll to the thighs of ?etin Pasha and stomped on the ground two times. The small crevice in the front opened with a small squeal and the driver¡¯s face peeked inside.


    ¡®¡¯What does my lord wish?¡¯¡¯


    A disturbing silence fell between two men- three men, including the driver. ?etin Pasha¡¯s smile disappeared and a slight annoyance appeared in his eyes. ¡®¡¯Nothing, just don¡¯t forget to drop our guest at his tavern.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Understood?¡¯¡¯ Driver mumbled and closed the wooden board, then they were left alone again.


    ¡®¡¯Baybur,¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha leaned forward, his gown shriveled with his movement. ¡®¡¯Why do you refuse?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯May I say my honest opinion, my pasha, and expect you to be, regardless of what I say, calm and collected?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯You can¡¯t,¡¯¡¯ ?etin pasha said, ¡®¡¯I¡¯m not sure if you recognize, but I am of old age. My emotions are hard to suppress.¡¯¡¯


    Baybur frowned, his lips gaped slightly, then shut. But he had a feeling that if he didn¡¯t say it now, he would be drowning in the intersection of two choices in the future. Baybur knew what he wanted as Baybur, but he didn¡¯t know what he wanted as a human. He didn¡¯t know what to expect from his needs as a human, from his instincts, and from his pounding heart.


    In his opinion, the aims he dreamed as a child and pursued as a youth held more importance than a faint, lingering touch of love. But he had a feeling that the latter existed for some reason, and it remained as a faint scent in his mind because of an unwilling subconscious desire. Lust might be said, but the clear smell of the feeling didn¡¯t carry any longing for the body. That is why he was confused. If it wasn¡¯t lust, if it wasn¡¯t looks, if it wasn¡¯t the exterior that made him bewildered, what was it?


    He feared the result of exploring that. He didn¡¯t want to tie himself tighter to the monster called Sultanate. He didn¡¯t want to suffer from the backlash of his revenge in the case he established that connection. Thus, he wasn¡¯t willing.


    He didn¡¯t know what he wanted as a human, and being a human was the most burdensome thing in his life. He wasn¡¯t going to benefit the side he hated the most by destroying Baybur¡¯s dream. He was, after all, Baybur himself.


    Being selfish was his sole opinion.


    ¡®¡¯What I want is not a family, I already have one,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said at last, his pupils carried a sharp glint that tried to pierce through ?etin Pasha¡¯s eyes. ¡®¡¯And even if I didn¡¯t have one, you wouldn¡¯t be able to provide, my pasha. My family is not something given by anyone.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯...Not given, you say?¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha closed his wizened eyelids and sighed. ¡®¡¯Pitiful.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯My daughter, I mean,¡¯¡¯ Before Baybur refuted, ?etin Pasha waved his hand to clarify. ¡®¡¯Being a mute and the sole heir of a Pasha is hard enough for her. Her sole family is me, and once I go from old age I fear there will be no one to call her family.¡¯''


    ¡®¡¯Unlike you, Baybur, her family is given.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯...I can¡¯t give her that.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I know, that is why she is pitiful. I am pitiful, I can¡¯t even find a good husband for her to take care of her,¡¯¡¯ ?etin pasha let out another sigh. As if each breath he let loose dispersed his remaining lifespan. ¡®¡¯Being a mute shouldn¡¯t result in such discrimination...¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯My pasha, we arrived!¡¯¡¯ The driver¡¯s shout came right after ?etin pasha¡¯s third sigh.


    Baybur stood from his seat and opened the door, he saw the entrance to the tavern he and Caner rented a room. Before going out, he turned around and cast a last glance at ?etin Pasha.


    His body reeked of desolation.


    Baybur gave a deep bow with his hand on his left chest, then descended the stairs of the carriage.


    ¡®¡¯I will get someone to pick you up at the first light of dawn,¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha spoke again, ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t bother going to the palace again, I¡¯ll take the entourage with me first to the ships.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Thank you, my pasha.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Farewell,¡¯¡¯ ?etin pasha nodded. Baybur closed the door behind him and the carriage sped off towards the southern parts of the city, to the ?etin pasha¡¯s estate.


    Inside the carriage, ?etin Pasha looked up at the ceiling, then sighed for the last time.


    *********


    Glaring lights of the afternoon sun invaded the deck he was standing upon. At his back on the horizon, the coasts of the old Greek lands and Thrace moved further and further away, and at his sides four Cog ships moved around their Caravel bearing the Sultanate¡¯s three crescent moon flag.


    Salty wind rushed to his nose and the breeze forced his hair to dangle in the air from behind. And in their front, the clear blue of the sea infected Baybur with an indescribable feeling.


    The journey to the Republic Of Venice had begun.

 Chapter 3.1- The Journey Through Mediterranean

    ¡®¡¯No, stop!¡¯¡¯ A sailor shouted on the deck of the cog, he lunged forward with a few more others to restrain Baybur. Baybur, however, didn¡¯t mind the call, he didn¡¯t care even. His sword slashed in a wide arc down and blood spurted.


    ?etin Pasha¡¯s eyes widened, then turned blank. His hands trembled at the same time, only to stop. The yatagan cut through the throat like a pebble falling on a lake, and the head rolled down.


    ¡®¡¯Damn it!¡¯¡¯ Sailor yelled,¡¯¡¯What did you do!?¡¯¡¯


    Baybur turned around to gaze at the man, sheathed his sword with indifference.


    ¡®¡¯I just cut a fish.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯And I ask why you did that! Look, you ruined such a good Sarda!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯But I cut it clean?¡¯¡¯ Baybur raised a brow at the remark, then turned his gaze to the giant fish on the table. There was a neat wound that separated the silverish head¡¯ bottom and top, trickles of blood leaned towards the ground from the table¡¯s corners. Though they didn¡¯t fall in a straight line, the crashing waves of the Aegean sea sent tremors running through the deck and the resting quarters below, causing the droplets to fly left and right. It was one such droplet that also awakened ?etin Pasha from his shock.


    ¡®¡¯It is not a matter of cutting clean, Baybur,¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha sighed, patting his forehead, ¡®¡¯if that was the case, we wouldn¡¯t ask for kitchen knives and scissors...¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Oh...my apologies,¡¯¡¯ Baybur¡¯s nose took a trace of red, ¡®¡¯I was a bit hasty.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯You were, you definitely were!¡¯¡¯ The sailor didn¡¯t seem to mind the difference between their social standings, or ?etin Pasha¡¯s rank, as he passed by them while brushing shoulders. He kneeled in front of the table, caressed the fish almost as large as a child, and shed tears.


    ¡®¡¯...¡¯¡¯ Baybur chose not to comment on that.


    He instead turned his sight away from his source of embarrassment and looked over at the light tint of blue circling their ship- or ships, he snuck a peek at the sails of the caravel flanking the cog ship. Contrary to them, their sails stood full open, as with the maximum speed they could go one or two knots faster their vessel. But in a scenario of naval battle, they would contribute much more with their capabilities.


    Or it seemed like that. Baybur didn¡¯t really have an idea of what he talked about. He had never boarded a boat in his life, after all, let alone a ship.


    Food for thought, food for thought...


    Albeit not as a whole, he was now accustomed to the constant gusts of salty wind and heaving bow of the ship. Looking at the rising and descending pole pointing forward made one¡¯s belly churn at first. Other than that, he realized how there were very few things to do on the ship other than talking, drinking, singing, and watching the sea. For the first, there weren¡¯t many things to discuss after a day or two. His life wasn¡¯t one of adventure or wars, the few he joined were defeats, even, so Baybur wasn¡¯t fond of talking about them. For the sailors, these men also got bored telling people the same things again and again; How pirates ransacked a port town in northeast egypt, how the prices of spices in the arabia rose because of a greedy merchant, how the pope...


    Now there were plenty, actually, Baybur realized, but in the view of these men living in the sea, they were just needless chatterings. What they liked to listen were epics, adventures, treasure hunts, and wars. Baybur, however, lacked them all.


    For the second, drinking was haram to muslims so there wasn¡¯t even a consideration of that among the sailors. But the few christian men in the midst didn¡¯t need to heed, they drank anyway.


    For the third, he didn¡¯t have talent for that and listening to songs didn¡¯t touch his heart. It was one of the things that stood at the bottom of his preferable activities list.


    So all left was to watch the sea. Watch the waves show their rising torsos before smashing onto the bare hull of the vessel, watch the blue recede and rush back and forth every second, watch the few fish submerge from the depths to shake their tails and whiskers. Not much, yet unceasing. The ships also moved to the same rhythm, heaved at the same pace, and continued to flap its sails to the overbearing winds pushing it forward.


    ...Boring...


    *********


    ¡®¡¯Boring?¡¯¡¯ Morrigan tilted her head at the question from her chair. She put down the needles into the basket of yarn, then lowered the basket to the cold ground. ¡®¡¯Why should it be boring?¡¯¡¯Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡®¡¯Because you do the same thing always,¡¯¡¯ Baybur raised his palms under the warm blanket and waved them back and forth, his fingers pinched like holding a square fabric. ¡®¡¯You cross this and that, then pierce the needle from all sides, right? It looks boring to me.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t you do the same thing, dear?¡¯¡¯ She smiled, ¡®¡¯You leave the city with Caner and climb that hill every other day. Isn¡¯t it also repeating?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯No but-¡¯¡¯ Before Baybur could utter a refusal, however, Morrigan¡¯s eyes flashed and she pounced on him with wide arms!


    No, she just took him in an embrace from a strange angle, which seemed quite detrimental to her back, and rubbed her face against his short hair. ¡®¡¯I¡¯m joking,¡¯¡¯ She said, ¡®¡¯It is fun for me. I get to make cute dresses for you to wear, that is enough.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Hmm,¡¯¡¯ Baybur felt like grumbling from the affection, and he did, honest to his feelings, so Morrigan ceased her fierce hug and took her basket instead. She pulled out two long needles, ensnared within a piece of half-done coat, and continued knitting the piece on her thighs. Baybur watched her hands sway back and forth for a moment, then turned his attention back to the crackling flames before him.


    They blazed with the same synergy and fugitive embers tried to float over his side from the ashen woods. Yet the fire burst with a new vigor and swallowed them up, and another series of embers rose. The cycle was endless, unceasing, and even though it concurred without any changes, Baybur found himself fawning over the shadows trapped under its wrath.


    ¡®¡¯Isn¡¯t it also repeating?¡¯¡¯


    Baybur sulked.


    Then a loud knocking came from behind, booming. Two deep tremors washed over the door and a rough, familiar voice spread.


    ¡®¡¯I¡¯m back,¡¯¡¯ He said, ¡®¡¯Open the door.¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I¡¯ll open it!¡¯¡¯ Baybur shot up to his feet, blanket slid down his bare scraped knees, and rushed to the back. His feet ran from the small hallway to the door and reached to the sliding lock at the middle, where even his height reached easily. He pulled, it squeaked, and with a pull the door opened. ¡®¡¯Welcome, dad.¡¯¡¯ Baybur leaped on the man¡¯s embrace with the sound of the rain behind.


    ¡®¡¯Calm down, my body aches everywhere,¡¯¡¯ Cain caught the boy mid-air and pulled closer to himself for a moment. Baybur was smiling from the wet texture when he saw his father¡¯s eyes shrink. He turned around, grasped the door handle and shut the gate. Once he finished sliding the lock, he turned around and walked inside. Oh, Baybur realized, It is troublesome to repair wet ground in winter.


    ¡®¡¯How come you are this late again?¡¯¡¯ Morrigan¡¯s cheeks had a tinge of red from the shining flames, her eyes still the same. ¡®¡¯I doubt there are any trees left in the forest after two weeks.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Rain, woman, rain,¡¯¡¯ Cain murmured and put Baybur down. As soon as his feet touched the ground, the boy scrambled to his blanket near the fire. It wasn¡¯t that these two would steal his place, but since they both came home then he was free to do whatever he wanted. Well, he could do before that, but the sense of uneasiness from the lack of both didn¡¯t help him enjoy watching the flames.


    ¡®¡¯Consider yourself lucky today,¡¯¡¯ She sighed and turned back to knitting. ¡®¡¯Since you have been working hard, give me some extra denars for tomorrow.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯And why is that?¡¯¡¯ Cain took a chair from the empty table and approached both. As Morrigan talked, he placed the seating a bit far from them.


    ¡®¡¯I have to buy some more yarn for your cloak, there isn¡¯t enough. And the say the hearth is going to choose some kids from our neighbourhood. Alexander is-¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯There is time left,¡¯¡¯ Cain interrupted and plopped on the seat, ¡®¡¯I doubt they will take him away.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Goran¡¯s kid was eight when they took him away, don¡¯t you remember? Alexander is almost ten now.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I- said-¡¯'' Cain frowned, ¡®¡¯It is early!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯...what is your problem?¡¯¡¯ Morrigan asked, she raised a brow. Even her hands holding the needles stopped in the air. ¡®¡¯It is not our decision, is it? If they want, they can take him. If they don¡¯t want, he can never go anyway.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯You¡¯ve got some courage these past years, didn¡¯t you?¡¯¡¯ Cain didn¡¯t answer, instead he slowly rose from his seat and approached Baybur. ¡®¡¯I never laid my hands on you since he was born,¡¯¡¯ His index finger pointed at Baybur, ¡®¡¯And you now learned to talk back to me?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯What are you trying to do?¡¯¡¯ Morrigan shot to her feet, the basket fell from her thighs and the yarn inside scattered over with tendrils. Baybur attempted to move back in the meantime, yet even before he could crawl Cain¡¯s hand shot and caught his flailing leg.


    ¡®¡¯Dad?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Since they look for able boys, then I¡¯ll take his leg. Those devils won¡¯t make my son one of them!¡¯¡¯ His other hand reached and clutched Baybur¡¯s leg from the other side. Baybur tried to shake off, and kick the hands away, but the grasp was too strong for him to resist. A woodcutter of decades¡¯ grip wasn¡¯t something a child could contend.


    ¡®¡¯Let my son go!¡¯¡¯ Morrigan shouted and lunged toward Cain. A flash of light passed through between Baybur and Cain, a sharp scream followed.


    ¡®¡¯DAMN WOMAN!¡¯¡¯ Blood dripped from Cain¡¯s hands. A needle was in his left wrist, poking from the other side with a scarlet tip. ¡®¡¯UGH!¡¯¡¯


    Cain released his grip and Baybur regained his freedom. He shot up to his feet and ran back to the door, shouted. ¡®¡¯Help! Help!¡¯¡¯


    But his shouts didn¡¯t reach far before a wail washed over him and his voice. Baybur¡¯s heart trembled, his knees disappeared and he fell down on the ground. His head leaned sideways to gaze.


    He saw the same needle with the same scarlet tip. Yet it wasn¡¯t in Cain¡¯s wrist.


    It was in Morrigan¡¯s eye, pointing at him from the back of her head.


    Baybur screamed.

 Chapter 3.2- The Journey Through Mediterranean

    ¡®¡¯Hey!¡¯¡¯ A voice called out, Baybur flinched on his place.


    His mind returned from the memory and his ears again caught the shouting waves of the sea. Scarlet left in its wake a dark aquamarine Aegean and a light blue sky. Instead of a tip, the Sun pointed at his eyes.


    ¡®¡¯Brother, are you not eating?¡¯¡¯ Baybur turned to look at the source, he saw the sailor who cried over the fish approach him. The deck creaked under his steps and a drop of blood fell from a knife in his right hand. There were still blood stains on his indigo blue gown, even a few could be seen on a white shirt under it.


    ¡®¡¯Didn¡¯t we just cut the fish?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Just?¡¯¡¯ Sailor giggled, ¡®¡¯You¡¯ve been dozing over here for half an hour at least, look at the sun!¡¯¡¯ He pointed at the Sun behind him. Baybur tilted his head to glance, then his pupils shrank. The Sun was no longer at the top, it leaned towards the west like the half-a-quarter of a circle and continued to slope down.


    ¡®¡¯Oh...¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯What made you so much focused, brother?¡¯¡¯ The sailor asked, he came to stand next to him and gaze at the sun.


    ¡®¡¯Some distasteful memories,¡¯¡¯ Baybur waved his hand, ¡®¡¯Nothing important brother, thanks for your concern.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯They must be worthy of talking if they bother you so much-¡¯¡¯ The sailor then exclaimed, ¡®¡¯Wait, why didn¡¯t you talk about them when we asked? It must be a good entertainment material!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯It isn¡¯t,¡¯¡¯ Baybur muttered, but he didn¡¯t say anymore. ¡®¡¯Where is the meal, under the deck or?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Do you see it, brother? If not, it is obvious.¡¯¡¯ Indeed, Baybur cast his eyes to the deck, to the three diverse sails and their wooden poles, to the burly man with sharp eyes standing on the crow¡¯s nest, and at last to the upper-deck where several other sailors seemed to gather around one of the household guards. It appeared that he talked about something, which made the small crowd cheer twice in a matter of ten seconds.


    ¡®¡¯Brother?¡¯¡¯ Sailor shook his shoulder, Baybur¡¯s eyes glazed over at him. ¡®¡¯My mistake, did I say something upsetting to you?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯No, brother, my apologies for keeping you waiting. Let¡¯s go.¡¯¡¯ Baybur walked off towards the small door leading to the inner quarters. Sailor followed behind him as well with mutterings, Baybur couldn¡¯t hear what he pondered about. Within a dozen large strides they came before the door from the railings and opened the gate, then walked inside.


    Though they closed the gate behind them, the rowdy nature of the sea still forced its way in with tremors. The path they stood on looked straight and normal, but the ship¡¯s swaying gave one the feeling of walking while falling down. Luckily, Baybur looked up, there were prisms placed between the deck and the inner sections to light up the inside. Else, with all this rumbling and trembling, he doubted any candle would sit still on their place and not burn the ship to a crisp.


    Some still used, though, especially the ship captain in his private room, which stood at the opposite side of the inner quarter¡¯s entrance. The some also included ?etin Pasha, who had a lone room assigned to himself, and a man from the household guards that loved reading books in his shared room. He remembered the latter not because he took notice of him, or perhaps a bit of the reason was that, but because he now stood in front of them at the entrance to the shared room.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    He closed the wooden door with a single window from his back and locked it with a copper key given to them by the ship captain. Baybur had no doubt there were more than one of this key, but safety was safety. The man did the right thing.


    ¡®¡¯Mustafa,¡¯¡¯ Baybur patted the man¡¯s shoulder, Mustafa turned to look at him. He had a freezing gaze in his dark pupils, perhaps enough to scare someone witless, but the friendly smile hung above his pointy beard negated the effect.


    ¡®¡¯Leader,¡¯¡¯ Mustafa gave a nod, ¡®¡¯Going to the meal?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯There is no where else to go, is there?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Of course not,¡¯¡¯ Mustafa nodded again, ¡®¡¯Let us go together, I wanted to ask you something as well.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Go on,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said and they started walking again.


    ¡®¡¯I hope it is short, because it won¡¯t last more than a few steps, it seems.¡¯¡¯ Sailor said behind them.


    ¡®¡¯It is, brother,¡¯¡¯ Mustafa said, ¡®¡¯Leader, have you ever been to Venice?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I didn¡¯t. Well,¡¯¡¯ Baybur closed his eyes for a moment, ¡®¡¯I didn¡¯t have the chance as well.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Oh, understandable. You were a yerliyya, they said. At where?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯At Stari Ras, at the northwest of Novi Pazar.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Isn¡¯t that a fortress, though?¡¯¡¯ Mustafa asked. ¡®¡¯Weren¡¯t Yerliyyas situated at cities and towns to secure the order and to...¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Suppress and check local authority, recruit new novices for the hearth, ensure the payment of taxes go without trouble. Many things, if you like,¡¯¡¯ Baybur completed Mustafa¡¯s sentence. In the meantime, the hallway came to an end and they reached a small opening with a long table strapped to the ground. The strong scent of cooked fish and mixed vegetables rushed over at their nostrils.


    ¡®¡¯But those are unofficial tasks. The first is our real mission and fortresses are, well, places that need protection.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I understand,¡¯¡¯ Mustafa nodded thrice and walked over at one of the empty chairs surrounding the table. Although long, the limited capacity and crew of the cog made it so that there were not many people filling in. The passengers amounted to eighteen; fifteen household guards, one ?etin Pasha, one Baybur, the last one the translator, While the crew only consisted of eleven men. Yet this table alone could hold twenty men. There were also other tables for single men or duos to sit together, and if one wanted they could eat on the ground as well, as long as they had a plate and cleaned off the stains.


    So the table was relatively empty.


    Baybur approached near Mustafa and took a seat left to him, and at Baybur¡¯s left seated ?etin Pasha who cast him a smile. Across him sat other household guards, who still wore their brown tunics over chainmail and carried their shields around. Captain of the ship, who sat between ?etin Pasha and the household guards, advised them many times in the past two days, to no avail. So he also gave up, but sailors would still steal glances at them.


    Now that the table had all important people gathered, and those who didn¡¯t want to eat sat outside to mind their businesses, Captain gave a nod for people to start. The few sailors wolfed down first, tearing pieces of the pair of large fish to their own bowls, while household guards kept their hands at bay. To those who got accustomed to the etiquette of the palace, eating like this must have been a bit...vulgar. Baybur didn¡¯t care much though, he also reached with his hand and tore off a large piece and put it on the bowl in his front.


    He reached for loaves of bread and dried pieces of meat at the sides, took bites off them and let them rest near the fish piece, then plucked a leaf of cabbage and swallowed it whole. Compared to his reserved eating at the banquet, he felt much better eating like this. ?etin pasha, also, didn¡¯t seem to mind and ate without restraint, though not as greedy as Baybur and other sailors. He was a soldier, after all, thus his lack of hesitation didn¡¯t seem weird in the eyes of the people.


    Except the household guards. They still had weird gazes locked on the sailors, Baybur, and their pasha. But not even a minute passed before they gave in and started eating. Mustafa was the first among them to drop the face, and soon others followed.


    Among burps and clatters and chewing noises, their meal came to an end.

 Chapter 3.3- The Journey Through Mediterranean

    Three days later crescent moon rose into the throne of midnight and radiated curtains of azure light onto the royal blue sea. From the crow¡¯s nest, if looked upon, one could see the waves roaring to the skies and rushing to the nearest shore possible under the cover of darkness. Their voices alone rumbled, and the ships on their way bore the brunt of these senseless tides without discrimination. To their luck, Captain said, there were no rain or storms coming their way, else they might have suffered some bad fortune.


    Baybur gave great importance to the Captain¡¯s words. He might have looked like a brute, and his actions proved so, but his interactions with ?etin Pasha and himself also proved him to be a capable man. That was why he liked, with his permission, going into his study late at night to bother him. Not to talk about mindless matters or tales, they were the sailors¡¯ stuff, but to inspect the maps and ask about different realms on the world.


    He planned to do the same this night, as he stood up from the stuffy bed with light cover. Baybur pulled off the bedding and grasped his sword¡¯s sheath beside the railings. It made a clink as he picked it up, alerting Mustafa reading at his own bed across the room. Not the other five scattered over the ground and beddings, these household guards still managed to snore like bears even with complaints about the sleeping conditions.


    ¡®¡¯To the study, leader?¡¯¡¯ Mustafa asked, though his eyes only half-left the dilapidated book in his hands. He wondered how he managed to read with such little light in the room.


    ¡®¡¯Yes, don¡¯t mind me,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, ¡®¡¯And try to keep an eye on them, I don¡¯t want them to make another commotion while sleeping.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Of course, of course,¡¯¡¯ Though he replied and waved his empty hand with lacking confidence, Baybur trusted Mustafa¡¯s sharp senses. He would be a good addition to the art school were it not for his identity.


    Baybur didn¡¯t make any further comments and made his way to the door, opened it, and closed from behind with a small thud. He already started hearing faint collapses of the waves against the ship¡¯s bow, though they sounded harsher tonight, as captain said. After listening for a moment he looked right, to the flickering lights of a glass sealed candle blinking at the hallway.


    Hm?


    Baybur decided to check what it was, since he was slightly early today. He walked past the crystal prism embed to the ceiling at the middle and passed through the entrance to the inner quarters¡¯ intersection where they would eat the meals. There were also four different doors that led to different quarters, though two alone was left for food and goods¡¯ storage. Other one was for the crew¡¯s own sleeping room, and since they were so few in number a lone space sufficed to contain their numbers. The last one was for storing tools, cannonballs, quivers of arrows, swords and other related things.


    But the light came from none, instead the sealed candle stood open on the table at the center. There were six men snoring on, under, and around the table with their limbs stretched to wherever they could reach. One of them had their palm right over the sealed candle. Baybur took three wide steps and clutched the sealed candle from its handle, away from the men. The soft glow cast faint shadows over the room and Baybur counted one more man in the shadows, making them seven. Surprisingly, three were household guards and there was the scent of...ale, it was all around the room.


    Baybur swept his gaze over them once more, then shook his head.


    I don¡¯t care, He thought and turned back to the hallway. If ?etin Pasha found them, however, there would be some harsh repercussions. Also there was the fact that he didn¡¯t want to make his relationship worse with these people, at least for now.


    He came before the room¡¯s entrance again and slightly opened the door, a small squeal escaped from its rusty hinges. ¡®¡¯Mustafa,¡¯¡¯ He peeked from the entrance and pushed the candle to the man¡¯s direction. ¡®¡¯Take this.¡¯¡¯


    Mustafa raised his head to the source of light, then his pointy beard rose with a wide smile.


    ¡®¡¯Bless your heart, leader, thank you!¡¯¡¯ He shot to his feet and approached him with wide strides, plucked the handle without any hesitation and walked back to his bed.


    ¡®¡¯Oh,¡¯¡¯ Baybur raised a brow but didn¡¯t say anything at the gesture. ¡®¡¯Be careful not to drop it,¡¯¡¯ He reminded and closed the door again.


    Gratitude, gratitude, Baybur repeated in his mind, this time taking left to the exit the inner quarters. He came before the entry in no time and pulled open, then stepped out.


    Moonlight washed over his attire first; the red gown, the white trousers, and the light blue quilted turban. All had a darker tinge in the night with the exception of his dark leather shoes. Well, their pointy heads were of a lighter hue in the day but it didn¡¯t matter much.


    Baybur took a deep breath from his nose to savor the clean and salty air and exhaled from his mouth. He looked around once, there were members of the crew standing for night shift. Two of them leaned on a railing at the right side, their backs to Baybur, whispering to each other about something inaudible. At the crow¡¯s nest he saw another one, sitting on the cramped space to rest. Were it not for their gazes meeting, Baybur would assume the man was dozing off with how relaxed he seemed. The sailor waved a hand in greeting, Baybur returned the gesture and moved forward.


    The doors of the Captain¡¯s study and the ship¡¯s inner quarters faced each other, and at the captain¡¯s study there was another door that led to the upper deck instead of the ladder one climbed from the right side. Baybur also glanced at the lone sailor on the upper deck watching the sea, he seemed immersed in the scenery. At last he approached the door and knocked twice.


    ¡®¡¯Come in,¡¯¡¯ a voice said, Baybur pushed the door open.


    To start with, there were more than a few candles sealed in glass compartments placed on iron holders. Three flickered at the left side, right next to the two rows of atlases, scrolls, books, and bottles of ink. Four of them brightened a large map of Mediterranean sea and the states bordering it; Ottoman, Spain, France, Genoa, Venice, Papal States, Mamelukes, Zayyanids, Marinids. There were streaked lines showing trade routes, cross marks on cities with seemingly important locations, and as a last addition were large amount of red circles around North African shores and Gibraltar strait.


    ¡®¡¯Welcome,¡¯¡¯ Captain raised his head from the table. A quill stood in his hand, put against a half-finished paper of writing among dozens of others. ¡®¡¯Was the barrelman awake?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Quite alert, even,¡¯¡¯ Baybur leaned his sword right next to the entrance and approached the table. Instead of grasping one of the empty chairs he went around and came beside the captain, gazing at the yet to dry ink on the papers. ¡®¡¯He noticed me looking in mere seconds,¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Good, we wouldn¡¯t want our scout sleeping sound at night, would we?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯He seems trustworthy to me,¡¯¡¯ Baybur replied, ¡®¡¯Why doubt him?¡¯¡¯This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡®¡¯Sailors are not trustworthy, brother Baybur, unless the matter is about adventure or war,¡¯¡¯ Captain¡¯s eyes flashed under his thick brown eyebrows. ¡®¡¯And even if they are, being lax and appreciative of it doesn¡¯t help their attitude.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯A reward would be ideal, though. Getting them hate you doesn¡¯t seem safe in a long, alone voyage.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯That,¡¯¡¯ Captain put down the quill and stood up, ¡®¡¯we have some things to deal with it. Instead, brother Baybur, I have a question I want to ask- two, actually.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Go on, captain,¡¯¡¯ Baybur leaned on the table¡¯s side and crossed his arms, gazing at the Captain walking over to the large map. Captain¡¯s hand went into one of the pockets stitched to his gown and left with a crimson flask in the grasp. He opened the lid and shook it over his palm, a red piece of chalk dropped. He sealed and put it back, then pointed with the chalk at the map.


    ¡®¡¯Can you guess where I¡¯m going to circle on the map right now?¡¯¡¯


    Baybur narrowed his eyes and inspected the map. Compared to yesterday, or the day before that, there weren¡¯t any visible changes to the map. He tried to connect some points; Them being a day away from the Mediterranean and Aegean border, the recent talk of pirate activity near east Mediterranean, the exaggerated amounts of gifts in the cellar and storerooms.


    He found nothing.


    Baybur shook his head, ¡®¡¯Is it somewhere near North Africa again?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯No,¡¯¡¯ Captain¡¯s pupils shrank, ¡®¡¯Here,¡¯¡¯


    His hand circled the west of Crete, between Ionian and Mediterranean seas¡¯ border.


    A sting of ice passed through Baybur¡¯s back, the candles flickered on the edge of dying off.


    ¡®¡¯Second question-¡¯¡¯ Captain said, turning to gaze at him, ¡®¡¯Why did I circle there?¡¯¡¯ He tapped on the circle¡¯s center.


    ¡®¡¯Obvious answer is the danger-¡¯¡¯ Captain nodded, ¡®¡¯But...¡¯¡¯


    Why should there be danger near there? If there is, why the crosspoint between Aegean, Mediterranean, and Ionian? What kind of enemy can prove danger to the envoy? If it can do, who is it?


    ¡®¡¯Captain,¡¯¡¯ Baybur spoke after pondering, ¡®¡¯May I also ask some questions?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Of course.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯First,¡¯¡¯ Baybur took a step forward and came beside the Captain, the map stood between them free to use. ¡®¡¯Why did you ask me and not ?etin Pasha?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯State matters are confidential, and so are the schemes between the nobles of the realm,¡¯¡¯ Captain said, ¡®¡¯Picking the second highest ranking officer with no clear connections to those troublesome pests should be the best, both for my interests and my crew¡¯s safety, no?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Second,¡¯¡¯ Baybur planted his index finger to the map, on North African shore, and traveled it to the west, then at the Gibraltar raised it to the lands of Spain. ¡®¡¯None of the people here are daring enough to get into the seas under the influence of Venice, Ottoman, Spanish, and Papal states. Even if there are, there is no point in coming as far as Cretean islands. In such a case, which pirate do you suspect of the danger?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Why pirates?¡¯¡¯ Captain waved his hand in refusal, ¡®¡¯I never, even once, mentioned pirates being in the fray.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Mercenaries?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Most possibly, or a disguised force.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Backed by whom?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯By any men that will feel threatened, either for his plans or for his life, by your mission. That would be my third question to you, actually, but lets make it clear here.¡¯¡¯


    Detrimental to his plans, to his life, or something different. Janissaries are a possibility, but unless the whole hearth pools in their gains over the years, they won¡¯t be able to hire mercenaries or a vessel. Aghas are no exception-


    The Sanjak-beys? Movement would be too obvious and almost none of them hold a shipyard and a fleet of their own. Money is, however, what they never lack.


    Pashas? A few dare oppose and the position of a Pasha is easy to take with support, even then Sultan doesn¡¯t lack much respect among the Pashas...except Halil Pasha. But he doesn¡¯t have the financial or political influence to pull a move like this, even though he is a staunch opposer of the siege of...


    ¡®¡¯Byzantine,¡¯¡¯ Baybur muttered, ¡®¡¯And someone from the inside feeding information to them. Even if they are not as strong, getting a small fleet to wreck three ships is not a big deal.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Hmm,¡¯¡¯ Captain pondered with his chin propped up, he didn¡¯t seem like he would talk any time soon. But Baybur had another question to ask.


    ¡®¡¯Captain,¡¯¡¯ Baybur turned to look at him, ¡®¡¯How did you find out?¡¯¡¯ That was the most crucial piece of knowledge.


    ¡®¡¯Let me ask instead, you can figure out from there,¡¯¡¯ Captain said and walked back to his table, Baybur followed. He took some documents and old pieces of paper, with a quick glance it revealed their contents to be the amount of supplies and gifts they brought into the vessel. Figures of money, however, took all the attention with their extraorbitant amount.


    ¡®¡¯In the interests of the Sultan and Sultanate, how fast would our speed be to satisfy the necessities enough?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Your wording is confusing, captain.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Let me rephrase it then,¡¯¡¯ Captain coughed twice and pondered for a moment, then spoke again. ¡®¡¯In how many days do you expect to reach Venice and go back to the Sultanate, and how fast would we have to be to not cause any danger to the cordiality of your mission?¡¯¡¯


    Baybur thought of Sultan¡¯s words, ¡®¡¯Three weeks to reach at most, the return should last the same.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯And do you know when will be there with our speed? At the earliest, four weeks.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Why?¡¯¡¯ Baybur¡¯s eyes widened.


    ¡®¡¯The food and the gifts were all carried and supplied by the Sultanate,¡¯¡¯ Captain said, pointing at one of the papers, ¡®¡¯And with them we received a large amount of money, only a quarter of it is our actual payment.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯If it isn¡¯t a part of the gifts, what is it?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯For food-¡¯¡¯ Captain said, ¡®¡¯To buy meals for you and my crew.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯They were supplied, you say-¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯For eight days, and your subordinates ate a tad bit more, so we will have to stop at Chania to get more.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯And this will slow us down by a day or two, if you want to get the ships¡¯ maintenance done, then by a week.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Exactly. ?etin Pasha inquired about our speed yesterday and answered the same. We also don¡¯t have extra ammunition, or any physician provided. I only realized then...¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯But this isn¡¯t a definitive danger, is it? There is no real evidence for any signs of attack on us, perhaps it is all to slow us down.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯It might be,¡¯¡¯ Captain said, ¡®¡¯But there are better ways to do that; They could have put some troublemakers in your team to cause trouble on the way, they could have given us extra goods to deliver at random cities- they did so in the past- or in the first place they would have sent you on land, that route alone would prove much harsher and more dangerous than the sea.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯And?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯...I have dealings with Salih Pasha, I assume you know of his name at least, and he told me of some peculiar rumours about a newly established fleet in Crete, two weeks ago.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯When did you get this information? Does it align with the time of the decision?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I am unsure of when you received summons, brother Baybur, but we were tasked with carrying some people over a month ago, and it was a sweet deal. However, the source revealed itself to be the Sultan himself only a day before our departure.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯We shouldered the task a day earlier than that,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, ¡®¡¯so it seems possible. Yet possibility is still possibility, Captain, but I¡¯ll try to see if there is anything to do.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I doubt there is,¡¯¡¯ Captain sighed and sat down on his seat, rubbing his throat. It must have come hard to speak for so long after shouting at the crew all day. ¡®¡¯But you have my gratitude. I am not sure what you will do with that knowledge, or what I¡¯ll do, but knowing is better.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Indeed...¡¯¡¯Baybur nodded and fell silent. They listened to the faint roars of the waves and the trembles of the vessel, then Baybur took a step back. ¡®¡¯Then, have a good night, captain. I¡¯ll go back to my quarters,¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Take care, brother Baybur, take care,¡¯¡¯ Captain waved his hand in response. Baybur approached the door, took his sword, and opened the gate. Right before he left, he glanced at the map on the wall, to the red circle at the west of Crete.


    He hoped it wouldn¡¯t be any trouble.

 Chapter 3.4- The Journey Through Mediterranean

    Two days later, the five ship fleet reduced into three, with the two caravels following behind returning to the Aegean seas after escorting them a little bit further than the original destination. They spent one more day at the seas after that and reached the city of Chania. Captain bought supplies that would last for the next three weeks and it seemed he didn¡¯t have any intention to get the ship checked. ¡®¡¯I would rather suffer the risk of the vessel getting damaged rather than get caught up in a fight.¡¯¡¯


    But things didn¡¯t work as he intended. The morning after their arrival and filling the ship, one of the household guards got into a fight with locals. He escaped into a caravel but the group beating him followed, wrecking the railings and almost bringing down the rightmost sail with their axes. ?etin Pasha threw off the household guard from the ship and caught the attackers with the rest of the crew, Captain sliced the hands of the two men trying to get the sails down. City authorities stood silent.


    As a result, Captain¡¯s suspicion seemed half-proven, so Baybur talked about the matter to incensed ?etin Pasha. The man¡¯s rather pale complexion brightened at the danger, which made Baybur feel like he made a mistake. Nevertheless, nothing happened through their stay and they left five days after with some extra arrows and a hired physician, who cost them a sizeable sum.


    Now they were near the intersection between Ionian and Mediterranean seas, and their path seemed to prove no further trouble.


    Until the barrelman cried out in the second day of their departure.


    *********


    ¡®¡¯CAPTAIN!¡¯¡¯ While the sun tried to rise in the air near the dawn, the shout of the barrelman shook the whole ship.


    Baybur shot up to his feet from his bed and clutched his sword from the side, in his front the household guards also awakened from their slumbers with shock in their eyes.


    ¡®¡¯Leader?¡¯¡¯ Mustafa was the first, as always, to rise and look at him.


    ¡®¡¯Grab your weapons and come over the deck, quick.¡¯¡¯ Baybur barked at them and rushed to the door, flung it open, then ran towards the deck entrance. He heard the confused grumbles behind him and the steps of the rising men, then he stepped outside.


    The first thing he saw was ?etin Pasha standing near the railings, watching the left side. He already donned his gowns and grasped his sword, a quiver and bow hung on his back. Following his trail, and in the meantime approaching him, Baybur saw the blurry shadows of ships at the horizon. There were five at the first look and he wasn¡¯t sure if there were any more.


    ¡®¡¯Get on the cannons, I don¡¯t care if they are friend or foe!¡¯¡¯ Captain now came into sight, crashing the door of his study with a kick, ¡®¡¯If they get past our range or even move their bow towards us, we shoot!¡¯¡¯


    Following the sounds of footsteps, Baybur turned around to see the few men of the crew getting to wherever they were needed. Six of them climbed up the ladder leading to the upper deck, where stood the sole cannon of the cog ship, while Captain himself came beside them.


    ¡®¡¯Did the other two see them?¡¯¡¯ Baybur asked.


    ¡®¡¯Even if they didn¡¯t hear me or others,¡¯¡¯ Captain said, ¡®¡¯They will move once we get on the cannons.¡¯¡¯


    Indeed, it happened as captain said. The ships following behind them suddenly picked up more speed and flanked them, one at the right on at the left. From their decks two ship captains waved at the captain, he made some hand gestures to them in response. After receiving what they seemed to want, the ships passed them and lined up in front of the cog ship like a snake. Baybur saw at least forty men each on their board, and three cannons on either side with bowmen behind them.


    ¡®¡¯Why did I even got this right,¡¯¡¯ Captain muttered, then turned to look at Baybur, ¡®¡¯Where are your entourage, brother Baybur?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯They should come soon-¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, understanding the man¡¯s intent. ¡®¡¯Though I wonder, can we not outrun them?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Baybur,¡¯¡¯ ?etin pasha replied instead, ¡®¡¯If we could, they wouldn¡¯t be here at all. But with the speed of Cog we might be able to run if things go awry.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯That is not something I would prefer,¡¯¡¯ Captain said.


    ¡®¡¯I agree,¡¯¡¯ ?etin pasha nodded.


    Soon the few sleepy ones also came to the deck, fully armed with their weapons, and armor under their brownish gowns. They came behind ?etin pasha and stood upright, waiting for any orders to be delivered.


    ¡®¡¯What shall we do, captain?¡¯¡¯ Baybur asked. Though it might have seemed like he gave the control of the order chain to the Captain, and he indeed did, and ignored ?etin Pasha¡¯s qualifications, it was clear that the experienced captain would know better than the both.


    ¡®¡¯If they are skilled with sword, let them wait under the cover there-¡¯¡¯ He pointed at the battlement-like corners of the cog ship, each large enough to accommodate seven to eight men and shield from any projectile except cannonballs. ¡®¡¯If they use bows, then get on the upper deck or take cover on here, though it won¡¯t do much.¡¯¡¯ Indeed, the railings came slightly above the waist and couldn¡¯t shield from much, but it was better than nothing.


    ¡®¡¯If they can¡¯t do both, let them help carry cannonballs and arrows from the storage.¡¯¡¯


    Baybur turned to look at the household guards. Under his gaze each took wherever they felt more comfortable. Neither Baybur nor ?etin pasha said anything, though they didn¡¯t know much about the skills of these men the limited knowledge still provided that where they took was according to their examinations.


    Barrelman at the crow¡¯s nest fell silent for some time, and with him the cog ship¡¯s crew, but the shouts from the caravels at their front still reached their position. The tides calmed down for some time, droplets of water flew through the air at each impact of the waves, and the faint breathings of men surrounded their position.


    ¡®¡¯Captain!¡¯¡¯ Barrelman shouted at last, waving at them. ¡®¡¯Six ships, all cogs! Two of them have cannons at their bow!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯What are they doing?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯They...they are turning their bow towards us, the other four are rushing!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Understood!¡¯¡¯ Captain said and took out a sword from the sheath on his belt. ¡®¡¯Get ready! Cannoneer, the moment they get into range blast through their seven generations!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯AS YOU WISH!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯My Pasha,¡¯¡¯ Captain turned to face Baybur and ?etin pasha, ¡®¡¯Watching from here is dangerous, if-¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Maybe, sir captain,¡¯¡¯ ?etin pasha interrupted, ¡®¡¯I, also, want to blast through their ancestors. And I doubt there is no one more capable than me here.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I am also old, so I¡¯m not good with emotions. So let me be.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯...as you wish.¡¯¡¯ Though he seemed willing, captain signaled Baybur with his hands. Meaning was easy to derive, but from what he heard about ?etin pasha even Baybur doubted his ability to pull the old man from the battle to safety.


    ¡®¡¯The ships are getting closer!¡¯¡¯ Barrelman shouted, and everyone¡¯s attention now turned back to the incoming ships. Rather than a hazy blur, the polished wood of the vessels now flashed their brilliance to them.


    ¡®¡¯Fresh made,¡¯¡¯ Captain assessed at a moment¡¯s notice. Following where he looked, Baybur saw the two cogs at the back with their bows pointed towards them. ¡®¡¯They¡¯ll be troublesome, but we should have no problem getting out of this.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Without any scratch?¡¯¡¯ One of the household guards asked, he had a long bow in his grasp already nocked with a feathered arrow.


    ¡®¡¯Expect death, a stray cannon or an arrow will take your life in an instant if you are unlucky. The physician can only do so much with limited supplies.¡¯¡¯ Baybur responded in captain¡¯s stead. He had experience with battles, and most of them gruesome failures, including the time he gained the grace of Sultan. So he knew what to expect for the worse.


    ¡®¡¯Rather than talking, get ready.¡¯¡¯ ?etin pasha said. The few men that took positions now closed their lips and awaited the arrival of the clash. Two minutes passed, the ships drew nearer, and their appearance now laid in front of them with no obstruction.


    This also meant they were now at the edge of the cannon range.


    ¡®¡¯Take cover-¡¯¡¯ Captain said, then turned his head.


    At the exact instant a deafening boom sounded on the upper deck, followed by six more from the front. Blurs of seven balls flew through the air and left trails of smoke behind them, put hundreds of meters between the cannon and themselves in a matter of seconds, then landed on one of the incoming cog ships.


    A cluster of wood exploded in multiple points, one ball crashed onto the bow and smashed the sole visible man at the deck, another smashed onto one of the two sails and broke it in half, the others all missed.


    Right before they could shake off the shock of the sounds, a sharp whistle echoed in the air. Baybur ducked his head the moment he heard the sound and grasped the shoulder of the man closest to him, forcing him to stand down.


    Then the whistle turned into a booming bang, sharaphnel exploded behind them. Stinging pieces of timber shot into air, while under the sharp noise the crunch of something being mangled echoed.


    ¡®¡¯Oh damn!¡¯¡¯ Captain shouted, ¡®¡¯Who got hit there?¡¯¡¯


    They all turned around to see two household guards as meat pastes, rather than standing up with their bows. ¡®¡¯That is some nasty scene,¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha looked for once, then retracted his gaze. ¡®¡¯But don¡¯t mind much.¡¯¡¯


    They did. The four other household guards that survived with bare centimeters paled at the sight, yet their hands still clasped the bows¡¯ grips. But it stood clear that they feared what happened. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡®¡¯Did the other one miss?¡¯¡¯ Baybur rose from his position, next to him the guard he saved still laid under the cover of the railings.


    ¡®¡¯It seems so,¡¯¡¯ Captain said, then turned his attention to the man next to Baybur,¡¯¡¯ You, go check the physician for me. Stay next to him.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Ye-yes!¡¯¡¯ The guard shot to his feet and rushed off, he flung the door open as if he would break it down and disappeared into the inner quarters.


    ¡®¡¯Ugh-¡¯¡¯ Captain shook his head and focused on the incoming enemy. ¡®¡¯Three minutes for another volley, but it seems insufficient.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Indeed...¡¯¡¯


    *********


    The ships now seemed to rush towards them. The moment caravels¡¯ and cog ship¡¯s cannon loaded up and fired, the remaining three vessels at the front reached hundred meters near. Instead of aiming at them, though, the caravels¡¯ rounds flew over them and struck one of the cannon present cog ships. The deck of the ship shattered into pieces and started sinking before the eyes of many, and the paled faces of the guards now regained some color.


    ¡®¡¯Bowmen, get ready!¡¯¡¯ Captain shouted, ¡®¡¯Ten seconds, Nine, Eight...¡¯¡¯


    ?etin Pasha also took out his bow and nocked an arrow at an insane speed, his calloused hands seemed unaffected at the forceful action. The others behind prepared too, they pulled the strings with full power and aimed at the forefront ship. On the deck of the leading ship stood some fifteen men. Except two, they all had bows as well.


    ¡®¡¯Three, two, one, release!¡¯¡¯


    The shrill whistles of the arrows passed by their ears and rose into the clear sky, winds fell silent at their rush, then the heads descended with their tips pointed at the enemy.


    Two struck, others all missed.


    This time the enemy released their arrows at full power, the strikes from before didn¡¯t took any of the bowmen, alas. The tips rose into the air as well and descended on them. They tried to shield themselves with the railings but the arrows still pierced through the shoulders of a guard. From the upper deck, a sharp scream followed.


    ¡®¡¯Cannoneer is wounded!¡¯¡¯ One of the crew members shouted.


    ¡®¡¯Take him inside, there are no uses left for cannons!¡¯¡¯ Captain yelled at them and turned his attention back to the incoming ship-ships. The remaining three all steered their vessels towards them, and on their bow stood bowmen with arrows nocked, ready.


    ¡®¡¯Another volley, release!¡¯¡¯


    The guards released their arrows once more while the distance shrank, now there were only forty meters between two ships. The enemy cog ship made a sudden maneuver and tilted to the side, approaching them from a transverse. ¡®¡¯They want to board, men, get your sabres and swords!¡¯¡¯


    The arrows fell with the captain¡¯s orders, this time they claimed three men. ?etin Pasha¡¯s arrow pierced the mouth of one of the bowmen, other two took them to the stomach.


    The distance became closer, now ten meters. While the guards took their yatagans out of their sheaths, another sharp whistle echoed in the air. The cog ship with cannon reminded its existence to the diplomatic envoy again.


    ¡®¡¯Bluergh!-¡¯¡¯ Baybur saw Mustafa get crushed under the cannonball beside him, his body sunk into the deck with the round stone and exploded into a mass of blood.


    ¡®¡¯They are on us!¡¯¡¯


    He didn¡¯t spare an extra glance, instead Baybur wrapped his hands around the handle of his sword and focused on the deck of the enemy ship. They all had dropped their bows and now grasped sabers in their hands. They had no clothes except yellowish trousers, reminiscent of middle-eastern loose textiles, and even their dark skins pointed at the same culture.


    ¡®¡¯HYAAAH!¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯KHAAAAAGH!¡¯¡¯


    Shouts rose from the remaining dozen men, now only two steps distance away from them. The railings almost touched each other and their eyes met with the enemies.


    ¡®¡¯KUAA-BREH!¡¯¡¯ The first man to make the move jumped to their deck, then fell with a gruesome scream. An arrow had pierced his neck and flew out of his nape, leaving a bloody hole. His body tumbled down, blood flowed on his stomach, then he slipped down to the sea. A big plop later he disappeared from the sight.


    The mood froze for a moment, then shouts rose from their deck. ?etin Pasha still had his bow in hand and nocked another arrow, aimed at the incoming enemies.


    ¡®¡¯Get those bastards!¡¯¡¯ Captain shouted, cheers rose behind him, and they leaped towards their enemies.


    ¡®¡¯HAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!¡¯¡¯ Several men jumped on their neck and started swinging their sabres towards them. Baybur received a burly african¡¯s saber with his yatagan, his arm slightly pushed back the man to the railings. From his left, however, another saber swung and tried to take his neck.


    ¡®¡¯Back down!¡¯¡¯ Captain intervened, his own sword blocked the sword with a clang, then slipped from the handle to the ambusher¡¯s forearm. He cut off a neat piece all the way to his elbow and kicked the man down.


    The burly man in front of Baybur, however, stood unfazed and lunged towards him at the chance. Baybur blocked the saber again, then he tried to strangle the weapon from the man¡¯s wrist. It proved unsuccessful, the burly man had greater strength and pushed his hand off, then swung again.


    Baybur took a step back and slashed, the impact send a series of itches through his arm, but the strike didn¡¯t cease. With shouts and screams in front and behind, he forced forward and swung towards the man¡¯s belly. The african man moved to block but Baybur suddenly foregone the attack. He flung himself to the man¡¯s chest and crashed his shoulder onto the burly man.


    A crack sounded, the man spewed blood out of his mouth.  Baybur followed with another slash to the shoulder and cut off the burly man¡¯s sword holding arm, his right hand flew behind to the now reddened sea. The blood drained out of the man¡¯s body in frenzy and he stumbled down face first, left to die.


    Baybur took two steps back from the chaos to see what happened, his eyes shrank at the sight.


    ?etin Pasha didn¡¯t have his bow anymore, instead he held a yatagan and clashed with a foe. The man didn¡¯t last three seconds as ?etin Pasha¡¯s first strike sent him flying to the ground, the second to the underworld. Around ?etin Pasha was two more corpses, and they all had the same wound in the heart, a straight stab. ?etin Pasha turned to look at Baybur once he finished and smiled.


    Baybur felt his scalp tingle.


    ¡®¡¯Another one coming!¡¯¡¯


    Right as the chaos seemed to die, another ship approached them. On its deck was twenty men, all armed with sabers as well, and from its back another ship followed, also loaded with twenty men.


    ¡®¡¯What are those two caravels doing!?¡¯¡¯ Baybur shouted and rushed forward again, the second ship crashed onto the first one to take some space. Once they got near the enemies started boarding and the precarious situation took a turn for the worse. Baybur ran beside the Captain and blocked the cut of a foe, the Captain followed with a stab and pierced the neck of the enemy, then pulled his sword out. Gurgling with blood in his mouth, the opponent took three steps back and crashed onto the railings, his body fell down from the deck.


    ¡®¡¯That is what they are doing, HAHAH!¡¯¡¯ Captain started roaring with laughter and pointed his finger forward. Baybur looked and his jaw dropped.


    Of the two caravels one of them started rushing to the incoming third ship with its bow pointed at the deck, the other started circling around their cog and pointed at the second ship trying to board. ¡®¡¯FIRE!¡¯¡¯ He heard a shout then a deafening boom.


    Right before their eyes the second ship¡¯s deck blew into smithereens, of the twenty men only few boarded before they turned into raw pieces of flesh. Sharaphnel followed the strike and pierced through one more man before the cog started sinking.


    ¡®¡¯Let¡¯s go!¡¯¡¯ Captain shouted and leaped forward to the enemies. The moment he came near a foe he swung his sword and cut down the man¡¯s left leg, then the household guard near him stabbed through the man¡¯s stomach. He pinned down the enemy while captain ran to another opponent.


    Another battle freak... Baybur shook his head and followed the lead, ?etin Pasha appeared beside him to rush, too.


    They both ran and slashed towards a man with tanned skin. Surprisingly he ducked from their blows and sliced towards Baybur¡¯s belly, laughing. Baybur stepped back to evade and slashed again, ?etin Pasha in the meantime stabbed to the tan skinned man¡¯s chest. The man ducked to the left and avoided Baybur¡¯s slash, yet ?etin Pasha¡¯s stab cut through his left shoulder and created a bloody trail. The man didn¡¯t stop laughing.


    ¡®¡¯Would you look at that! HAHAHA!¡¯¡¯ Captain¡¯s loud laugh approached them, then he himself appeared and swung his sword down on the tan skinned man.


    ¡®¡¯HAHAHAHAHA¡¯¡¯ Tan skinned man laughed, too, and blocked captain¡¯s blow. Baybur tried his chance again, his sword slashed towards the man¡¯s leg, and ?etin pasha struck the man¡¯s back.


    Tan skinned man pushed forward and sent captain¡¯s sword flying with a slash, then lowered his back. Baybur¡¯s slash created a scratch while ?etin Pasha missed, then tan skinned man turned back to them.


    ¡®¡¯HAHAHA!¡¯¡¯ He continued to laugh and lunged towards ?etin Pasha. ?etin Pasha smiled in response and started exchanging blows with the tan skinned man.


    ¡®¡¯Get the others!¡¯¡¯ He shouted, then his sword fell on the tan skinned man again. He blocked, then leaped towards ?etin Pasha with another slash of his saber.


    Baybur nodded and went to the few household guards¡¯ side. He saw one of them trapped by two enemies and rushed towards him. His loud footsteps got the attention of the opponents and one of them turned around. Baybur brandished his sword and brought the edge down to the man¡¯s head.


    The enemy forgone the household guard to his friend and waved his saber. His skill lacked tremendously, however, a testament to their difficulty at killing a lone man with two people, so Baybur managed to evade and grasped the wrist of the foe. He tugged, the man lost his footing and fell forward, then Baybur slashed down.


    ¡®¡¯BLUGH!-¡¯¡¯ He cut through the skull and the yatagan severed half the head and shoulder from the body. Blood splattered on him, yet Baybur didn¡¯t even bother to look once more. He ganged up on the remaining man with the household guard and they stabbed the foe from the chest together.


    Once the enemy dropped dead they rushed back to the last three men on the board, now cornered by five household guards and three crew members. They seemed the most persistent of all, and with their skills they seemed like they would hold on. But with two more addition they finally lost the balance. Baybur and three others slashed at the same time and turned one into mincemeat. They walked with heavy footsteps to the last one of the two and pierced through his limbs, then cut through them. Blood flowed like a river at this point, yet the last foe still managed to hold on.


    He was the tan skinned man who clashed with captain and ?etin Pasha without any stop. He seemed to have endless stamina as he laughed and exchanged blows with the duo. Even ?etin Pasha started exhaling through his nose at this point and it seemed as if he had no more strength left.


    But the remaining men arrived and they circled the tan skinned man, ?etin pasha and Captain pulled back from the circle. The ten men started taking faint steps forward with their swords pointed at the tan skinned man. They inched closer and closer, then at last the tan skinned man¡¯s back pressed on one of the swords. They all stabbed together, blood spurted. The man turned into a shishkebab and fell down with a thud, lifeless.


    ¡®¡¯Haaah-¡¯¡¯ Baybur sighed and leaned on his sword for a moment, some others did the same.


    ¡®¡¯What about the other two?¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha asked, then all attention turned beyond the deck.


    ¡®¡¯Damn...¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Oh my...¡¯¡¯


    The third ship was sinking into the sea with a humongous gap in the middle of its body, and the caravel from before was retreating back to its position.


    ¡®¡¯They really blasted through...¡¯¡¯ Baybur muttered.


    Though the screams died off and the battle finished, another boom from the last caravel shook people awake from the serenity. In the distance, the last cog ship was retreating back after firing one last shot, which flew over their heads and disappeared into the sea behind. But as the cog ship turned around to swim away, the booming cannonballs reached its place. Of the three, two crashed onto the deck¡¯s side and the last one broke the back sail into pieces. The collapse of the sail slowed down the ship and right as it took a turn, the second caravel fired shots.


    Cannonballs flew in the air and pierced through the upper deck of the cog ship, the other two missed.


    The broken cog ship found the chance and sailed away, leaving behind pieces of broken wood and ship parts. Faint breaths, gulps, sighs, then at last a loud shout.


    ¡®¡¯YEAAAAAAAAAAAAH!¡¯¡¯


    Cheers exploded.


    *********


    The state of the ships were pretty good, captain said, and even though half of the deck¡¯s surface collapsed nothing serious happened to the gifts they were bringing. Other two ships, in comparison, took almost no damage from the intentional strikes of the opposing force. ?etin Pasha took note of that, Baybur noticed.


    Other than that they lost eight of the fourteen household guards and the cannoneer from the crew. Seven died in combat while cannoneer and household guards couldn¡¯t survive beyond the treatment. When ?etin Pasha and others adamantly insisted on burying them on the land, Captain also agreed and they took a day of rest near the shores of an Albanian village. They departed no soon after and after two weeks and a half, the fleet of three ships managed to reach their destination.


    Now stood before them the Republic Of Venice: Seren¨¬sima Rep¨´blica V¨¨neta

 Chapter 4- Beginning Of The End

    Baybur sat in a boat with a wide shaft, facing ?etin pasha and the translator whilst right behind him a man rowed it forward. They weren¡¯t in any sea or a lake, they were in a street- the streets of Venezia. To call them streets would be somewhat wrong, Baybur felt, but in reality that was the state. The stream they followed wasn¡¯t a single, unique path leading to Doge¡¯s Palace. Instead, almost all corners of the city had streams interlocking and flowing from the city to the Adriatic. Baybur watched the passing boats, all alike and filled with men of different clothing than his hometown, or Sultanate. Baybur¡¯s eyes fell on the hats they wore, they seemed like a three pointed star and slanted backwards, for they were just a tad bit shorter than an adult''s head. The sight itself wasn¡¯t funny, Baybur¡¯s own janissary clothing included a headset that flowed back down to his waist, which he found not quite to his liking, so he knew the uncomfortable weight they possessed. But this man had a pleasant expression accompanying his hat, so Baybur guessed, perhaps, this man felt near to nothing from its weight.


    Comparing to his hometown¡¯s clothing, and the similar ones all across the balkans, these people didn¡¯t wear belts, only rarely; whereas in Serbia they would fasten them around the waist tight to hold their tunics tight, neat, and good looking. Though this was also to keep the clothes under the tunic together, for if they both moved independent the itchy feeling irritated the skin. This wasn¡¯t to say Venezians had a poor taste, Baybur thought, it was the difference in the perception of fashion and, concluding from his limited knowledge, climate. Serbia had harsher winters and more rainy seasons while, from what their guide told the translator, Venezia rarely had ice and snow at the peak of winter. So these tight pants and loose linen, and more so puffy tunics were a more reasonable choice to equip. It was the same for the Sultanate, they wore gowns over shirts and trousers with wide interior, as the climate hardly proved harsh except the eastern region of Anatolia. The living Armenians, of course, adjusted their outfits to the changes as well.


    Going back to the calm waters and the boat he was on, Baybur raised his head to look at the arches and domes over the juxtaposed buildings lining all the way to the horizon. They had canals of streams parting them, and at these gaps were high bridges wide enough to contain two to three men. Byzantine, Ottoman, or is it Roman? Each of these empires had tremendous influence, either from their heritage or their own style, on the architecture of Europe, Middle-East, and North Africa. Hence, parts of their culture remaining in Venezia was no surprise to Baybur. What he wondered most was why they had built these houses with no distance between each. Translator turned his head to ask their boat owner, who in turn spoke a curt answer.


    ¡®¡¯There isn¡¯t enough space, he says.¡¯¡¯ The translator said.


    ¡®¡¯Hm, hm,¡¯¡¯ ?etin pasha nodded with a faint smile, gazing at the long tower like buildings. The decorations and light looking bodies of these Venetian houses seemed...refreshing. In Baybur¡¯s opinion, of course, but he could guess how awed ?etin Pasha was as well. Though he was a man tempered by war and drilled by discipline, no doubt he took some other interests with the old age and the relatively less frequent life of a Pasha. Architecture being one of them was no secret, so he felt confident of his thought.


    ¡®¡¯How far are we?¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha asked, the translator turned to inquire again.


    ¡®¡¯Almost there-¡¯¡¯ Translator said while their guide pointed at the front. ¡®¡¯Yeah, this is it My Pasha.¡¯¡¯


    They approached a stairs leading to the thin walkways before Baybur could see where they pointed at, then climbed off the boat. Translator gave a small coin to the boat owner, exchanged a few words Baybur assumed to be farewell and gratitude, then parted ways. Now that they were closer to these buildings and above the canals of water, Baybur had a greater view of the scenery. Buildings and their arches above still spread to the ends of the world, as well as the streams with boats rowing over them, but nevertheless it looked much fabulous than before.


    After inspecting for some more time, he realized the translator and ?etin Pasha had moved far from him, so he rushed to their side. They walked for some longer and passed over a bridge, took a left, then reached a square with grandiose white tiles covering the ground. Baybur raised his chin and his gaze slipped from the numerous men and women with long dresses to the palace. To be exact, the Doge¡¯s Palace.


    It had arches, no surprise at this point, at the bottom of the white marble palace leading to the entrance, and above it another series of them with narrower curves serving as the balcony¡¯s railings. Right atop these second line of arches were four-leaved clovers, not of wood or stone, rather carved into the building itself and circled by...circles. Too many buildings past this point had similar decorations and adjustments made to their exterior, so Baybur had quite a difficult time finding the extraordinariness of this palace. Not that he had the intention to mock, he wasn¡¯t narrow minded as to declare the worth of a man by the first impression. In his mind, perhaps, this ruler could be one of the humbler ones, or his ancestors were, as they built this palace, or the culture itself didn¡¯t revolve around the prosperity of the ruler, as many others did. Though he didn¡¯t have the intention to ask bout this, too.


    There were few guards, donning pikes and chainmail standing at the entrance, though once ?etin Pasha took out his sealed letter and some sort of item, which they recognized, and the translator spoke to them they parted ways. They lifted the spears out of the way and they shouted inside, with faint steps a man rushed out and received them. Right before he entered, Baybur was asked to leave his weapon for obvious safety measures. He didn¡¯t protest, this was how it was supposed to be, after all.


    Once they passed through a small corridor from the entrance and came into what could be called the main hall, Baybur froze on his place for a solid minute. Then he turned his head, revolved, stepped around, his eyes devoured the sight in front of him as fast as he could.


    The ceiling was covered in golden trimmed marks, like beams and colons, inscribed with delicate hands and mastery, and in them stood paintings. Masterpieces, in Baybur¡¯s eyes, art like he had never seen before. Lifelike figures, fields of battle, pictures of terror, courts of heaven, portraits of men; With faces full of virtue, with gowns flowing like silk, with wings alike of angels, with faces twisted in agony, and figures of women; with faces full of virtue, with no clothes laying bare the artists¡¯ imagination, with figures unmatching in beauty, with faces giddy in mercy.


    Thinking wasn¡¯t enough, imagining the grandiose majesty of the place was hard, trying to engrave it into his memory almost impossible. Baybur thought nothing other than watching. He didn¡¯t realize he was walking towards one of the walls, his hand raised and palm opened, fingers stretched like a claw, eyes blank.


    A hand yanked him from behind and his eyes regained their luster. It wasn¡¯t anyone he knew, though, it was two children. They wore black, wide garments on top of another cloth he didn¡¯t recognize, and red pants with flat red shoes. They also had necklaces refined of silver, at the tip a bright lustrous cross, swinging. Once he awakened and his eyes flew by the children, he saw a man staring at him. Elderly, high and thin eyebrows above his wrinkled eye bags, with puffed cheeks like a cute child. From his eyes flowed a kindness Baybur saw from Hikmet, from Caner¡¯s brother, from his own mother. Not towards him, but towards all, a stance towards the world.


    He wore a bright yellow hat, slightly longer than his head, and below it the strings of a coif could be seen. He also had a gold-like robe thrown over his shoulders and reaching his feet; serpents, flowers, leaves, and more embroidery trimmed with gold traveled on the robe¡¯s surface. Under the robe also stood a white tunic, and the tunic¡¯s sleeves came further than his arm, resulting in two patches of white cloth sticking out of his wrists. But it all made him look more amicable and friendly.


    The elderly man smiled at him, then the two children ran towards the man. He didn¡¯t mind the little boy and girl tugging at his robe, slightly caressed their heads and sent them on their way. If he hadn¡¯t seen that gaze, Baybur swore, he would have thought the man acted because of the children¡¯s noble status. But that gaze changed everything. First impressions were, after all, harder to shake. He gave a bow as an apology, the man waved his hand with a kind smile.


    Baybur pried his eyes from the man and looked at ?etin Pasha and the translator. As his mind started working again, he saw both inspecting their surroundings in relative interest, yet their curiosity was a far cry from his numb dreaming state. Once they also grasped and pondered, their attentions turned back to the elderly man.


    Francesco Foscari, Doge of the Republic Of Venice.


    The translator approached and started talking with the man, the smiles didn¡¯t cease from their faces all the while ?etin pasha presented the letter and let the Doge unseal it. A few moments passed and Doge replied with a single word, translator froze in his place.


    ¡®¡¯What did he say?¡¯¡¯ ?etin Pasha asked.


    ¡®¡¯...I agree. That¡¯s what he said.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯But we didn¡¯t even talk about anything, about the terms and what would be the deal. And gifts, too, they are still being transported.¡¯¡¯ Baybur said.


    Translator seemed troubled as he seemed to ask something. This time Doge gave a slightly long reply and flashed the letter to him. Translator froze for a second time, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.


    ¡®¡¯He says It is to the benefit of my people and not of danger to me, why should I hesitate? But the real reason is the letter,¡¯¡¯ He talked in haste, ¡®¡¯Sultan has listed all conditions, everything by himself, and even stamped it.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯This is not a stamp, but an agreement, then?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Exactly-¡¯¡¯ Translator then suddenly turned as Doge told something while taking back the letter. He stuffed it inside the hem of his robe and smiled.


    ¡®¡¯Doge asks whether you would be interested in a boat tour?¡¯¡¯


    *********


    Baybur flung open the door and bolted outside without any garment to shield from the rain.


    ¡®¡¯ALEXAN-UGH!-¡¯¡¯ Shouts rose behind him, and he propelled with the fear of being caught up, his legs stampeded on the puddles of murky water. Who knew these little feet could garner such strength? Enough to put a sizeable distance between the murderer stumbling after him, chasing, shouting. Did no one hear them? The swears, insults, threats, and his sobbing. Was his existence so insignificant, not enough to gain even pity? Or he was. Perhaps one or two cowards looked on at his miserable state with twinkling eyes of pity, and prayed for his well being, asking God for his safety rather than acting themselves.


    Baybur increased his speed, he felt cold drilling through his feet and pass through his nerves. A chill, the frozen hand of Serbian rain caressed his spine for a moment, and his blood flushed in response to push his little body to its limits. Streets were empty, he had no worries of splashing muddled ponds over people, and neither did his father. Shouts drew near.


    Close, close, close, close, close, close, close, so close, so close, right next to here, just so close, just around the corner, push a little harder, go faster, close, close, close, close, close, there, there, there, there, here, here, here-


    ¡®¡¯HEREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!¡¯¡¯


    Baybur¡¯s lungs caved in to his chest, his throat trembled and burnt and itched, and his voice boomed under the dripping assault of the rain without any obstruction. He ran over to the familiar church, next to the familiar house, next to the familiar door, next to the familiar door handle now gripped by a long, dark man with a terrifying gaze. He froze on that place, looked behind Baybur, his gaze locked on the invisible path and the incoming murderer.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Then he ran towards them.


    Just as he passed through, the door of the house bashed inside and another man stepped out, middle-aged, strands of grey hid in his dark hair. His eyes, too, widened into a glare, then he bolted again. They passed from his side and lunged at whatever thing now behind him, but Baybur had no more energy to chase. Cold was deep in his bones and flesh, his mind was muddled like the puddles, and his wet hair clumped the front of his eyes. The last bit of his willpower went into the drain with that shout, so he collapsed.


    His knees gave way first, engraved into the softened road their shape, and his torso followed with a lean to the front. Raindrops covered the carved path of his footsteps with water and the rising voice of the violent brawl.


    His eyes fell on the reflection in the half-opaque pond in his front, on his sorry figure, on his miserable half-smile, on his tears mixed with rain, on his paled face, on his reddened nose, on his bloodshot eyes, on his crimson ears.


    ¡®¡¯I-I-I-I-I-I...-I-I-I...I...please...¡¯¡¯


    For the first time he felt teardrops fall this clear.


    *********


    Something nudged him in the shoulder, Baybur realized.


    He opened his teary eyes and swiped the drops from the corners of his eyes, then looked up at the object. It was a rowing shovel, with a wide tip and long handle, at least long enough to be useful from the top of the boat. It was hard to see the dark-brown shade under the picturesque blue sky, but nevertheless it was still there. Though it was also not easy to notice the darker shade that turned light at the intersection of the shovel¡¯s tip and the handle¡¯s end. It felt cold to touch, too, and he concluded it must be fresh out of water.


    ¡®¡¯Hm?¡¯¡¯ He stood up from the boat and turned to his side, the owner of the boat gazed at him with a questioning gaze. Baybur swept his eyes at the back, he saw nothing other than the long canal and lined up houses of the Venezia, and he swept his eyes at the front; Doge, ?etin Pasha, and the translator were still seated at their own boat and talking. What was it then? He thought, and turned around again to see the owner sigh to himself. A soft, faint one. Helplessness, perhaps, would be the best way to describe its notion.


    For what? He wanted to ask, but rather than the lack of a compromised language, it was his uncaring attitude that removed the chance. Or both, they were all important aspects of the misunderstanding, if there even was.


    The boat¡¯s owner had already turned his head back to the water, Baybur noticed, and his long oar was back in the canals to push the boat forward. Its occasional splash, penetrating the water sheen to move back and forth, was the sole noise other than the owner¡¯s whistle. Tune was strange, one Baybur never heard before, but appreciated nonetheless.


    Now that he realized there was nothing else to do, Baybur decided by himself to relax again and laid on the boat, his sword grasped with one hand and his head by the other. He looked up at the clouds shielding him from the Sun, or some other blessed soul that the giant golden thing persisted on not burning them all for his/her sake. Could Sun also turn stars into ashes, he wondered for a moment?


    Perhaps, He thought, for the brightness of the Sun was of a different level than the stars. But who can say it isn¡¯t the opposite? If those hundreds and thousands of stars gathered, who could conclude whether it would be destroyed or not?


    Who would be the strongest star? Late Sultan...He was a strong man, someone he admired, though the few battles and skirmishes Baybur entered, and lost in a miserable way, were all under his command. But admirable people would be admired, there was no reason to not do so.


    Caner would stink as always- He chuckled to himself, There would be a small yellowed net over the star¡¯s head...


    Hikmet would be...a fainter one? Not of old age, but because of his temperament. A faint star, that is.


    And...


    Why did she come in his mind, anyway? She would be...she...


    What would she be?


    Baybur closed his eyes and thought of a star, four pointed and blazing. Its lights tried to reach the ones around it, to touch, to merge with their lights. To create an aurora, something new, something belonging to both and no one else. There would be a burning, humongous star behind it, though, with ashes drifting over it. An old star, spending the last bits of its life to protect the smaller one.


    One who tried to conserve, the other tried to advance.


    Baybur pondered for a long, long time about this star. In the end, only he knew who this star was and what kind of a star she was.


    Only, he didn¡¯t know why the star was like that.


    *********


    They stayed in Venice not long compared to their expectations. One week and a half was enough to repair the cog ship¡¯s broken deck and reload the goods and ammunition. For the lack of manpower caused by dead crew members, new ones were hired in their stead. Doge didn¡¯t expect them to stay long as well, he plainly stated so, but from the tales ?etin pasha told he was magnanimous as to let them go with a merchant fleet escorted by the republic¡¯s navy. This would ensure their safety well beyond Mediterranean and into the Aegean, further that point was no more danger than a plotting grand vizier.


    The day they set forth there were no one to send them off other than the Doge and his few guards, alongside the two children Baybur saw in the palace. No cheers, no words, just the waving of a hand and the kind smiles. Baybur bowed his head towards the Doge before disappearing into the horizon, but only god knew what his response was.


    The sail lasted three weeks, what Sultan Mehmed expected them in the first place, and they didn¡¯t encounter any trouble in the way. They parted ways with the Venetian fleet near the Athens and further progressed to the port of Enez. Once they reached their destination, the household guards with Baybur and ?etin pasha bid farewell with the captain.


    ?etin Pasha resumed the Edirne Palace with an additional letter and a copy of the Sultan¡¯s treaty made by the Doge Foscari while Baybur decided to return to the tavern he rented a room with Caner.


    There was the choking influx of culture all around Edirne he forgot well over the two months, Baybur noticed. It differed from the Venezia¡¯s silent peace and refreshing air. But both were same in one aspect. They were foreign.


    He found out two things when he inquired with the tavern owner. Caner had left five weeks ago or sometime around that period, which was expected, and all of the rooms were occupied today. So he had to look for another place to sleep in. Baybur didn¡¯t leave the tavern so soon, he got himself a decent meal to eat and sat around for another hour after that.


    Once he departed from the tavern, Baybur stepped through the crowd of traders and customers and pilgrims to pass through the short alleys leading to the residential area. Once he spotted the changing landscape he looked around for a few minutes and found the house he was looking for. He came beside the door of the building and knocked twice, loud.


    Faint footsteps and a coughing approached, then the door squeaked open to reveal Hikmet, wearing his special gown with seven separate apertures filled with seven reed flutes. ¡®¡¯Oh, come in,¡¯¡¯ Hikmet urged with his hand and led him inside, closing the door behind.


    They took a seat, this time without any cups of coffee prepared, and sat silent for a while.


    ¡®¡¯How was your travel?¡¯¡¯ Hikmet asked.


    ¡®¡¯With up and downs-¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, ¡®¡¯I saw the sea, three of them. They were all the same, though.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Indeed, what do you expect otherwise?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Nothing.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Then, have you heard the news? A fresh fleet out of dockyard met its demise to the northwest of Crete.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯...is there a need to be roundabout?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯There is,¡¯¡¯ Hikmet sighed, ¡®¡¯For a little boy insists on withholding what he experienced. If not, why would I be?¡¯¡¯


    Baybur shook his head with a smile. ¡®¡¯It was better than Kruje, at least.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯I doubt someone can experience a defeat harder than that in a single lifetime,¡¯¡¯ Hikmet raised his dry lips to a smile, ¡®¡¯And the treaty?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯State business, state business-¡¯¡¯ Baybur waved his hand in rejection, though blurted a second after. ¡®¡¯Done in a day, I expect Sultan to be overjoyed.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯With how messy things are, I doubt he will be, but joyous news nonetheless.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Messy?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Assassinations- In the hearth and in the palace, even two of the aghas died while Sultan was gone. Grand Vizier is frantic, as all that died are either closely related to him or were discreetly helping him with influence over the janissaries. They even started hiding when Sultan came back a week ago. Then there are the accidents you suffered- Salih Pasha¡¯s carriage got struck three times by mounted bandits. Unbelievable audacity- this grand vizier is too hasty to stop the Sultan.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Mistakes will pile up either way,¡¯¡¯ Baybur said, ¡®¡¯And with both Sultan¡¯s and the envoys¡¯ return, I doubt the siege date will be put forward any longer. He doesn¡¯t have anything to do other than, perhaps, mouth off in the ears of some sanjak-beys to make it hard to get rations for the army.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯He could-¡¯¡¯ Hikmet nodded, ¡®¡¯but it is too late already.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯True...¡¯¡¯


    Now another silence fell between them, though it was a tad bit uncomfortable for Baybur to bear. After a few more minutes passed, Hikmet spoke again.


    ¡®¡¯Have you seen that girl?¡¯¡¯


    Baybur understood who he mentioned in an instant.


    ¡®¡¯Why should I? Or let that alone, how can I?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯?etin pasha should be more than happy to have you as a guest, no?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Perhaps he would,¡¯¡¯ Baybur shook his head, ¡®¡¯But it is rude, and even awkward to some point. We are only acquaintances, and there is no real desire between. It would seem like I was a suitor if I wanted to visit them.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t you want to be?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯...I don¡¯t,¡¯¡¯ Baybur muttered. ¡®¡¯May I sleep in your house today, if it wouldn¡¯t be any trouble?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll prepare the bedding for you. In the meantime, get some rest. There should be a lot to do tomorrow for you.¡¯¡¯


    *********


    It turned out as Hikmet said, there was a huge load of things to do.


    For first, preparations for the siege started openly the moment ?etin Pasha presented the treaty¡¯s copy they brought from Venice: They were the last to get back, too, so it seemed like they were what Sultan was waiting to act. Sultan opened the treasury and brought massive amounts of food, there would be more to come once they set the siege, armaments, which would also be repaired by the blacksmiths brought along, and at last carts and horses, both for, obviously, carrying the supplies.


    The aghas and pashas were called to the capital while some, whose bases were located on their path to Constantinople, mustered the men and supplies in their command and awaited the arrival of the main army to join. Grand Vizier Halil pasha, in line with expectations, showed a great deal of opposition to the whole event, but it seemed like other than a few no one heeded his words.


    Concurrently to that, Baybur was given the position of the second-in-command of his Orta, which meant he would be akin to the left arm of Muzaffer agha and could garner a great amount of influence. This was the position he sought for at the beginning, a footholding to lean his back and start his plans of revenge. This gave him hope for the period after the siege, when the time would be for him to shine if no accidents occured.


    A few days after, Emperor Constantine threatened Sultan with supporting his brother, Orhan, in succeeding the throne, so Sultan now gained a valid casus belli to signal the war¡¯s commence. He released his official decree to gather men, and t?mar owners flocked to the nearest city to Constantinople and the capital to merge with the armies. As the second-in-command, it was Baybur¡¯s task to ensure the admittance of the timar owners and their militias, as well as the preparations of orta''s janissaries. So he had a huge burden on his shoulders.


    Time passed too quickly for the Sultanate in the midst of hurry. As the forces started merging with each and march was imminent, the construction of the Rumeli Fortress finished. Once the Emperor Constantine realized that there wouldn¡¯t be any help coming, he sought support from the European kingdoms and started gathering his subjects to the city with plentiful food to live on. Meanwhile, his calls for help were answered by no one except Giustiniani Giovanni, a genoese mercenary with a private army of several hundred men. No more support arrived.


    That marked the start of the march.


    *********


    Sultanate¡¯s army was one with great magnitude. They had over a hundred thousand men and a few dozen cannons. Among these cannons were a single, more brilliant one, called Basilica, masterwork of the Hungarian smith Orban built in Edirne prior to the siege. At the forefront of the marching army it was pulled by four pairs of oxen, for its sheer weight proved horses incapable of carrying it forward. Even then its speed was slow, and there were also other artilleries brought forward back in the lines, so the marching speed slowed down considerably.


    Nevertheless, there were no problems on the path, so they reached in front of the walls not long after. Tent of the Sultan was set at the highest point looking at the city while others¡¯ spread around it in a wide circle like a red sea.


    Baybur, at the edge of the encampment, gazed at the walls of the thousand year old empire.


    ¡®¡¯It is time...¡¯¡¯

 Final Chapter- The Martyr

    In the main tent at the center of the red sea of pitched lodges, Sultan looked over a map with several of his pashas and janissary aghas. Baybur stood behind Muzaffer Agha, though he had no influence on the debate now going on between the high ranked officials of the warfare. Everyone had beads of sweat flowing down and some aghas, even ?etin Pasha, had scars left from the past assaults that resulted in failure.


    Baybur shook his head at the shouts and the raised voices, turned his gaze to the gap between the tent to the outside. The smokes from the Basilica¡¯s maw hinted at it¡¯s recent bombardment, and the yells of the smiths working on its body rang quite harsh in the ears of the surrounding soldiers. The cannon itself, after all, needed constant repairs because of the generated force and aggressive backlash from its aggravated size, which in turn caused others to be flustered.


    ¡®¡¯We need to get those Venetian ships taken care of-¡¯¡¯ Muzaffer agha¡¯s voice sounded, Baybur clasped his yatagan¡¯s hilt and looked over. ¡®¡¯-We have to pressure them into diverting their forces. It is not like Zagan Pasha can do much watching everything from other side.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯...then build a road.¡¯¡¯ Sultan opened his mouth.


    ¡®¡¯Build a road through Galata to the shores of Golden Horn. It doesn¡¯t need to be perfect, just make it wider than the base of a caravel.¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯My Sultan?¡¯¡¯


    ¡®¡¯We¡¯ll move the ships through the land-¡¯¡¯ Sultan waved his hand and took the map from the table. ¡®¡¯-Then bombard the walls down.¡¯¡¯


    *********


    Few days later in late April, the ships carried from the Galata arrived at the eastern sea walls of Constantinople. Venetian ships and the colony of Pera, now faced with a great threat, assaulted the incoming fleet, to no avail. Emperor Constantine ordered a bulk of his army to now face the forces of Zagan Pasha and the ottoman ships, including the few pieces of artillery left after a failed assault by the ottomans, of which the rest were obliterated in a bombardment. Late into the night, Byzantine side tried to destroy the ottoman vessels with fireships, but in a matter of either foresight or internal intelligence, the ottoman side anticipated the assault and defended their vessels. There were forty italians that managed to swim their way back to the shore, but in the orders of Sultan they were brutally impaled on the beach facing the defenders. The screams rang far and wide.


    Now left with not much choice, the crews of the remaining Venetian ships joined the defence on the walls with the others, then responded to Sultan¡¯s provocation by executing ottoman prisoners on the walls, facing their own people.


    *********


    The siege proceeded with up and downs- several assaults were tried on the theodosian walls with the cover of the artilleries of the ottoman side, yet to no avail. Walls couldn¡¯t be breached and each trike resulted in more deaths, though no corpse was left under the walls and were brought back to the ottoman side by soldiers.


    *********


    Once the calendar hit the middle of May, Baybur encountered workers from his homeland. Sappers, to be exact, who intended to dig tunnels under the theodosian walls to infiltrate the city. They dug with pickaxes and shovels deep trenches, put beams and pillars made of wood to hold the soil above them, and kept going forward all the way to the city. There weren''t any guards assigned to them, though, and only supervising officials.


    This proved to be a chance for the eventual disaster.


    One night screams rose from the tunnels with pleas for help, awakening a number of soldiers and alerting a larger amount patrolling in the encampment. Once rushed inside, they met with their foes of Byzantine side, counter-sappers who made tunnels of their own to meet with Ottoman side. Contrary to the serbian sappers, though, they were soldiers and armed civilians that rose in support of the emperor, so what happened was a simple matter of slaughter. They pushed deep down and almost reached the ottoman encampment, where they were stopped by the janissaries and bashi-bozhuks spread around the frontlines.


    This was followed by three more tunnels, and three more failures. It was then understood Byzantine anticipated something as such with ease, though some said a few officials were taken prisoner by the enemy. Digging under the walls were the easiest way, after all, to bypass the defences that protected the state for a millennium. Of the three more attempts, one ended with a large amount of deaths from both sides by the eruption of Greek Fire, collapsing the whole tunnel into remnants of earth and dust.


    *********


    On the twenty-seventh of May, it was apparent no relief force was coming to the Emperor¡¯s rescue. A solemn air encroached on the whole city.


    On the twenty-eighth, rituals were held in both Constantinople and in the Ottoman encampment. In Hagia Sophia, Emperor prayed with nobilities from Latin and Greek origins, with the attendance of the Christian representatives. In encampment, apart from the Christian forces under ottoman rule, soldiers performed their salaat and prayed for victory.


    The midnight passed, and the dawn approached. Arms were readied, officials were in their place, cannons were loaded, talks of glory and plunder were made. Now, Baybur stood among three thousand Janissaries, situated in the road leading to the gate of Saint Romanus, awaiting the orders of the assault. Muzaffer agha was there as well, at the front with his bulky physique, and with a shield and a curved sword grasped in his robust palms. There were gulps, dry coughs, series of blinkings, and deep breaths¡¯ sounds all over the regiment.


    The same scene happened at the north, where less-trained azaps faced the gates of Blachernae and Kaligaria, at the south near the gate of Pege, and at their back, on the hill where Basilica stood with its readied shell awaiting an order to fire.


    A deep drum voice exploded right at that moment, then a deafening boom that shook the air itself with the soundwaves alone. A black silhouette, size of perhaps half a house, passed over them and crashed onto the Theodosian walls at the gate of San Romanus. The stone ball exploded into a shower of rubble and crushed the walls¡¯ bottom into a wide gap. A tremor passed through the scalp of everyone, then the flag-bearer raised the three crescent moons over the green to the air.


    ¡®¡¯CHARGE!¡¯¡¯


    *********


    Baybur moved with his regiment amidst the raised clouds of dust from the footsteps, they charged down in a half-misshaped line and reached in front of the gap in no time. The janissaries at the forefront came face to face with the Byzantine defenders now holding the gap, then lunged forward at them.


    Screams rose instantly.


    Clashes of the swords and shields resounded while Baybur pressed forward through the crowd. They seemed to push back the enemy with the initial attack, as with him and Muzaffer agha several dozens of men continued moving forward. Their streak lasted short, for large amounts of Genoese mercenaries approached with armed civilians. Their faces brimmed with hostility and bloodlust as they struck.


    The three thousand regiment was getting pushed back and encircled, Muzaffer agha shouted orders and they gathered into a nonuniform line to defend for a moment. One side pressed on and the other continued to defend, but it was clear casualties were too much for the janissaries. With each swing one red gown fell to the ground, with it the body of a ottoman. Blood flowed deep and cast a red shade to the soil as the clash continued.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Baybur swung his sword in front of him to block the strike of a mercenary, then took a few steps back near to his compatriots. They were surrounded by some twenty men, but Baybur and his group had only eight men. Muzaffer agha was even further in the enemy line than them, though, Baybur watched him clash with three men by himself and cut their hands.


    While he was watching the encirclement widened in range and more people poured in. By now, at most a few minutes passed yet over a few dozen died already. Baybur felt a chill at his back and glanced at the side to see a company of mercenaries coming in, with them a man in armor akin to chainmail. Muzaffer agha saw him, too, and his face sprouted with hatred from seeing some kind of arch-enemy.


    ¡®¡¯Giovanni!¡¯¡¯ Muzaffer agha shouted and pushed forward towards Giovanni Giustiniani, the leader of the seven-hundred-men mercenary group. Baybur didn¡¯t stop to watch either, he assessed the situation in a second. If Giovanni fell, they would gain the upper hand. If Muzaffer agha fell, they were done for in mere minutes.


    ¡®¡¯Assist our agha!¡¯¡¯ A janissary, however, acted even before him and lunged forward. He brandished his yatagan and pushed the soldiers in front of him with ferocity. His sword befell on a head and the head was gone, his slash cut through the armor and the waist was gone. The sheer violence he inflicted with each strike caused the defenders to get more agitated, and their bloodshot eyes turned into a crimson tint of blood as they pushed forward as well. Baybur and the few near grouped together and rushed towards the Muzaffer agha, now clashing with Giovanni¡¯s foreguards. The man himself, however, didn¡¯t cover or hide. Instead he rushed towards them with some men as well, and his eyes glinted with avaricious bloodlust.


    Baybur ran ahead of his group and leaped towards one of the mercenaries, then swung his sword downward. The mercenary raised his shield to the direction of Baybur¡¯s sword and lowered his body to hide under the cover. The sword slammed on to the shield, it gave the sound of a shrill drum but didn¡¯t cave or shake. The mercenary peeked out and stabbed with his own sword at him.


    Baybur took two steps back and raised his own shield, the same bang noise spread and his hand turned numb. Hmm!? Muzaffer agha¡¯s shout sounded behind him, but Baybur couldn¡¯t afford to get distracted. There were clashing men all around him, who would turn him into mincemeat in a moment¡¯s notice once their own battle ended, so he had to take the initiative to do it first.


    He ran forward to his opponent and raised his sword to strike, the man covered behind his shield in response. Yet the sword didn¡¯t fall- instead, Baybur pushed forward and bashed his shield onto the man¡¯s own from above. The sheer weight caused the mercenary to grunt and take a step back, but once Baybur saw a slight sneer behind the shield he knew he screwed.


    A sword flashed before his eyes and headed to his lower body, then a sharp pain burnt through his nerves in his thigh. Baybur let loose a harsh grunt and bashed his shield again, forcing the man to take back his sword from his thigh. Baybur took three forceful steps back and cast his eyes to the deep stab in his thigh. It bled like there was no end to blood and the pain almost caused him to collapse.


    Fucker! Baybur lost his cool from the pain and lunged forward, his brows knitted into a frown that could only indicate the lust for blood. He slashed towards the mercenary and the man used his shield again, the sword didn¡¯t fall, but no shield bashed as well. Just as the mercenary peeked out, he saw Baybur running to another duo fighting. Baybur approached too fast for the defender to react and pushed his sword into the neck of the enemy, then cut through his neck. The head fell onto the ground with a spray of blood.


    Amidst the shouts and yells and wails of people around them, Baybur forced himself to move forward. The mercenary from the before tried to chase but was intercepted by the janissary he relieved from an opponent. Now left with no opposition in clear sight, Baybur turned his head towards the clashing Muzaffer agha and Giustiniani.


    Their blows caused tremors to pass through their own arms, he saw, and their expertise surpassed any he saw until now. Each men were the most seasoned and the most experienced out of all in this stage of the battle, decades meant nothing in front of their skills surpassing mere effort. This was the talent, he thought, to dominate and battle.


    They were now in a stalemate and no one in sight had a free hand to lend help to each.


    Baybur grinned with his now bloodied teeth.


    He spat the trickles of blood in his mouth to the ground and rushed forth. His wounded thigh got number with each passing second and he knew it wouldn¡¯t be long before it gave in to the physical limitations of the body. So he mustered all strength in his body to go forward.


    Was there any meaning to do so? There was. Though he had great ambitions and had a revenge in his hand, still, with a lifetime he owed to Caner and his own country, it wouldn¡¯t mean a shit if he died here. Retreat was out of question, too, for deserting meant instant execution. To change the shift of the battle and ensure he would be safe later on, it would be the most logical thing to take down the enemy commander and crush the morale of their enemies. With his now wounded self, all he had to do later on was to act like he wanted to fight yet couldn¡¯t, so he would be a some kind of ghazi.


    So he ran forth.


    Baybur brandished his sword and passed by many dueling and brawling men, he stepped over the corpses of his own corps and of his enemy without batting an eye. He crushed the hand of a half-alive janissary he noticed laying down, yet it didn¡¯t bother him as he moved forward. He passed by a mercenary whose eyes still shook with the lack of a body under his waist, he didn¡¯t even react. His eyes were locked onto two figures fighting, huffing from exhaustion, yet finding strength in their hearts to cross swords against each other again.


    Now Baybur was too close to them to not notice, and both recognized which side he stood instantly. Surrounding them the bulk of his mercenaries became frantic, they tried to push their opponents or kill them with more haste to stop the intervention. Yet the janissaries also became more spirited, the opportunity helped them to regain some kind of bravery and let them fight harsher. Muzaffer agha had a sharp glint in his eye as he became more ferocious as well, letting go of defending. Giovanni didn¡¯t have any reaction, he just became calmer instead. It seemed like he didn¡¯t mind the extra burden, but in the eyes of everyone they knew he would be in a precarious situation.


    Baybur was now six steps away from them, his left leg gave the signs of giving up and the burn from the wound flared up again. He stumbled for a moment and almost fell- but he stabbed his sword to the ground to stand up. Giovanni laughed and pushed Muzaffer agha into the corner, his strikes became much forceful as well. Baybur, once he regained his footing, took his sword out of the earth and took two more steps. He was two steps of away from the range of their swords now, and his own sword was readied to strike.


    ¡®¡¯BAYBURRR!¡¯¡¯ Muzaffer agha shouted and lunged forward, Baybur felt an indescribable pain shoot through his leg to the every nerve in his body, but he still pushed forward. He put every ounce of strength into that leap, into that slash, into that ferocious strike that sealed the fate of Giovanni. His body leaped up, an indescribable pain shot through every nerve in his body from his thigh, but he didn¡¯t budge.


    His sword rounded through the other side of Giovanni and the slash of Muzaffer agha closed in from the other side.


    Trapped, now with no chance of survival, Giovanni seemed to make a decision.


    Time stopped for Baybur at that point, as countless thoughts passed through his head. Who would Giovanni aim for?


    Muzaffer agha for sure, Baybur concluded. There was no reason to aim for him, he was of no importance in the command chain and before he inflicted any kind of wound on Giovanni, his worth remained as a simple foot soldier.


    There was no reason, there was no need to strike him.


    YET!


    YET WHY DID HE SWING TOWARDS HIM!!?!?!?!?!?


    Baybur¡¯s posture was defined, and irreversible. His sword would cut the waist of Giovanni, it was destined, but how much damage he could inflict was decided by Muzaffer agha himself. What did it mean? It meant the overall damage Giovanni would suffer from him was higher than Muzaffer agha.


    BUT WHY!?


    His eyes slanted to the side, to the sword of Muzaffer agha who was supposed to attack, which now stood next to its sheath.


    BUT WHY!?


    His eyes glanced at the mouth of Muzaffer agha, opened, and his eyes narrowed with pity.


    BUT WHY!?


    Muzaffer agha¡¯s lips moved, as the first word sounded Baybur felt something cut through his neck halfway in. A pain he never felt surfaced, and his eyes shot out of the skull from the mere shock.


    BUT WHY!?


    The second word sounded, and the sharp thing cut through the entirety of his neck, and his dangling eyes flew into the air with his head.


    BUT WHY!?


    Moments before his consciousness closed, his head crashed onto the ground, his eyes turned blank, his body fell, his grip loosened, his brain shut off, Baybur processed what he heard.


    BUT WHY!?


    ¡®¡¯For sultan...¡¯¡¯