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Authors: James Shipman

BOOK: Constantinopolis
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“How is my midnight vagabond? I trust you didn’t depopulate the entire city tonight?”

Mehmet smiled. “I was recognized only twice.”

“Good thing, because we’ll need people for our armies and this habit of yours is thinning the population too quickly. I can’t say I entirely approve and in any case, why kill them?”

Mehmet flushed in irritation. “I don’t need to be recognized. That is my time, the only time I have to myself. It is not too much to ask that I be left alone.”

“Well it would seem at some point the population would get the message. Just remember, we may need some of those people for our army.”

“I heard more talk this evening. More talk of my father.”

“Random killings aren’t my only problem with your evening wanderings. Listening to this gossip is no good for you. You are the Sultan, it doesn’t matter what these people think or say about you. You are their ruler by Allah’s will. You should kill a few of the people spreading such rumors. And quit listening to them.”

“Ah my friend but they speak the truth. Why should I punish those who simply speak what everyone is thinking? The people have no love for me. That much is very clear. They only remember my father, and they remember my past failures. They think I’m a child. They think I will bring them to ruin. I need to do something that will unite the people. Something extraordinary. I know what that something is.”

Zaganos stared at Mehmet for a moment before responding. He breathed heavily, clearly weary of a topic they had discussed too often.

“Constantinople? You make my head ache with this talk. Over and over you go on about taking that city. Constantinople is a curse to Islam. The cursed city has not fallen in eight hundred years despite our faith’s many attempts. Your father and his father tried again and again. How would failing again before the city’s subjects improve your position? You will give Halil all he needs to usurp your position, or replace you.”

“That city is a thorn in our side. It sits in the middle of our empire. The Greeks are through. Their empire now consists only of the city. Why should we allow a separate state hundreds of miles within our empire? A state of despicable infidels? We can never be a true empire while Constantinople remains in the hands of the Greeks. We must take it! I was born to take it! It is Allah’s will. Did not the blessed Prophet, peace be upon him, predict its fall, and that the people who captured the city would be blessed?” Mehmet could feel himself growing angry and his hands shook.

“It is true. But remember that your ancestors have built their empire step by careful step. Osman began in Anatolia with just a few hundred warriors, a leader among many leaders. He carefully built your territory up, as did each Sultan one after the other. Your father Murad shored up the empire’s power against Hungary, and in Anatolia. He would have taken Constantinople if he could, but he could not.

Your father was powerful, beloved by his people, with the full confidence of all his advisors and in the prime of his life. Still he could not take the city. You must place yourself in the same position if you wish to try. You are not ready for that task yet Sultan. You have so many summers ahead of you. I advise you to take your time. Win some small victories against the Serbians, or the Bulgarians. Build up your forces. Win the confidence of the people slowly. Then you can try Constantinople. Too many empires and armies have died at those city walls. Do not add yours to the tally.”

Mehmet stared hard at his friend. “You have known me all my life Zaganos. Do you think I am less than my father? Do you think I cannot take Constantinople if I want to? I will not waste my life under Halil’s boot. Every day he questions my authority. I see him whispering among the elders. I know he works against me. I will not continue to tolerate this. I must act decisively. I will take the city and then I will end that traitor’s life!”

“You’ll never get to the city. As you know, these sieges require months of preparation and the full resources of the empire. You cannot simply order the attack. I know that Murad could and did, but if you do, you risk Halil making a move against you now, when you are the weakest. He would have far too much time to maneuver against you.”

“Then I will call a council and win the full approval of my advisors.”

“A council? Nothing could be worse my friend. They won’t approve the plan, and you give Halil power to voice his concerns in public. He can defy you openly, while acting as if he simply is trying to give you advice. Please do not do this. Please follow my advice and start with less ambitious projects. You know I will follow you no matter what my friend. You are my Sultan, I am your servant, but I am afraid you try too much too quickly. Remember the lessons of your youth!”

“I remember them well.”

Several days later, Mehmet sat on his divan in the presence of the council. The Ottoman Council, an informal group of the top advisors of the empire, was made up of the Sultan, Grand Vizier Halil, the religious leader known as the Grand Mufti, and a number of lesser Viziers, generals, and members of the religious and civil community of the empire. In all, nearly thirty men assembled to hear the Sultan out regarding his proposal. Many of the men came from established Ottoman families, with just a few of Mehmet’s first generation Christian converts. There was a crackling air of tension in the palace room, with the two factions eyeing each other distrustfully. Zaganos and the younger members stood together and slightly apart from the senior council, emphasizing the divide.

Mehmet rose to address the council. The murmuring of greetings and small talk fell and soon it was quiet with all eyes focused on the Sultan. “My friends, I speak to you today of Constantinople. Since the Prophet himself, peace be upon him, walked among us, it has been our destiny to capture Constantinople. His standard bearer himself was slain before the city walls almost eight hundred years ago. For a hundred years now we have bypassed the city. We have attacked it without success. We have worked around it. We have had great victories in Europe. We own all of the land for hundreds of miles in each direction from Constantinople. The Greek Empire is all but a memory. We have brought our blessed faith to hundreds of thousands of converts.”

Mehmet paused, looking around the room to gauge the faces of the council.

“This success means nothing. All of our triumphs mean nothing while this city sits in our midst. This city is an infidel mockery of our faith, of our people. If we cannot take the city, we cannot be a true people, a true empire. The Prophet, peace be upon him, predicted that a blessed people would take the city. We are that people. And the time is now. I propose that we make immediate preparations for the siege and capture of the city. We will take the city for Mohammed, for Osman, for Allah!”

There were mixed cheers and murmurs from the council. Zaganos Pasha quickly rose to respond to the Sultan.

“My Sultan. You speak with wisdom beyond your years. It was your father’s great dream to capture the city. Alas, he could not do so before he left for paradise. But you will fulfill his dream. As a general among you I report that we have the forces necessary to capture the city. We need only the will of our leader, our Sultan, and we will prevail. Let it be done.”

More cheers accompanied Zaganos’s response, although Mehmet noticed these came almost exclusively from his Christian/convert faction.

Halil now came forward to speak, first bowing before the Sultan.

“My dear Sultan, and assembled council. I humbly speak as Grand Vizier. I appreciate our Sultan’s enthusiasm for this project, but I must respectfully disagree.

“I certainly agree that capturing the city would do wonders for our empire, for our people, for our faith. However, our Sultan tells us these things without addressing the obvious problem: how to accomplish the task?

I would point out that it is not the will of his ancestors that prevented the capture of the city. Certainly it was not the will of Murad who desired this above all things. It is the city itself that prevents this.

How is the city to be captured? Is not Constantinople surrounded on three sides by water? We have no fleet to speak of my Sultan. We have difficulty enough ferrying a few troops back and forth across the narrow waters of the straights without interference from the Greeks. And the Greeks possess their Greek fire, the terrible weapon they use to burn our ships and kill our sailors. The only time the city has ever fallen is by sea, and then only to the Venetians and other Latins, who
did
possess a great fleet.

Should we defeat the city by land? We outnumber the foolish infidel Greeks ten or twenty to one. But they have the walls. As you know my Sultan, the city is only exposed by land on one side. A triple network with a moat protects the land approach to Constantinople, with two huge walls surmounted by scores of defensive towers. The city can be defended against our hundreds of thousands by a tenth of that amount. The walls have not been breached in a thousand years.

And that is just to speak of the Greeks. What of the rest of the West? Time and again our attacks on the city have served as a lightning rod for the Pope and the kings of Europe to rise against us. We have fought battle after battle to preserve our territory in Europe. When will we prod this hornet’s nest too greatly? Our strength is in the petty squabbling of the Christian kingdoms. Can we afford to unite them? We may lose more than Constantinople; we may lose Europe in the bargain. Think of John Hunyadi my Sultan. He is perhaps the greatest Christian warlord we have faced. We have a truce with him now, but if we attack the city? With our forces diverted to the center, what will stop him from attacking the north? We could lose everything gained in the last hundred years in a single winter.

My Sultan, I advise caution. Do not repeat the mistakes of your youth. Accept the advice and guidance of this council. In time, you will have the support you seek in these things.” Halil bowed again, a slight smirk on his face. He stepped back amidst several elders who placed supportive hands on him.

The Grand Mufti, religious leader of the Ottomans now came forward to speak. Mehmet felt tense. Much would ride on the opinion of the Mufti, who he hoped would support him.

“My Sultan, I agree that it is the will of Allah to capture the city.”

Mehmet smiled, with the Mufti’s support, he would not fail.

The Mufti hesitated. “However, there is of course the question of timing. With all respect, you are still young in years, my Sultan. We have many enemies, including not only John Hunyadi but also the White Sheep of Anatolia. These enemies but wait for an opportunity of advantage to attack us. I agree with Halil: if we rob our borders of forces to embark on a lengthy siege of the city, then we leave ourselves open to attack.

Also, think of what a failure would bring. You have not won any great victories as Sultan. The West watches you closely, perhaps considering you the most vulnerable Sultan in many years. If you fail at Constantinople, you will have lost the faith of your people. We will have expended our treasury, depleted our troops. We will be vulnerable. I agree with Halil. We could lose everything. That is certainly not what Allah intends. We are his keepers on this earth. We cannot gamble recklessly with our duty. I cannot support this plan my Sultan. I too urge caution.”

Halil came forward again. “My Sultan, you have our support and advice for so much. Please do not react recklessly to our response. It is intended only for your own good. We will be here to assist you in all your endeavors. Forget Constantinople for now. I have many suggestions for you that I believe you will find promising and will assist you in your future rule.”

Mehmet could feel his blood rising.

“I see no reason to wait. We have waited long enough to take this city. My father should have captured it when he had the opportunity. These Greeks have nothing left to fight with. He had Constantinople in his grasp, and he let it fall through his fingers. I won’t make this same mistake.”

“Your father was very wise. He didn’t make a mistake in not taking the city. It was his choice. If he didn’t choose to take the city then with all respect, Sultan, you should heed his actions. He had the love of his people, a lifetime of experience, and the trust of his council.”

“And I do not have that trust!”

Halil bowed. “Of course I do not claim that. However the more time you are in power the easier it will be to accomplish what you wish. You have already had a revolt while you were in power. I
certainly
would not wish for that event to be repeated. Let your people see you leading them wisely. Listen to the advice of those who advised your father. In time you will have the people’s trust, and when the time is right we can consider attacking Constantinople again, if appropriate.”

Mehmet was incensed. He wanted nothing more than to draw his sword and behead Halil right here and now. He let the anger burn through him without showing any emotion, simply staring thoughtfully at the council. He saw that almost exclusively the old guard backed Halil and the Grand Mufti. Only a few of the younger members surrounded Zaganos and obviously supported him. His hands were tied.

“Very well,” he conceded finally. “I will wait for now. But this decision will not be long delayed. It is
my
destiny to take the city! I will take Constantinople! I suggest you all reconcile your position with this and begin working toward a solution. I am the Sultan! I will not be denied what I want!”

He was losing control and he hated it. He sounded like a petulant child. He couldn’t afford to show weakness before these men. He saw a slight smile on Halil’s face, and the Grand Vizier looked around knowingly, making eye contact with several other council members.

He had heard enough, and showed too much. He dismissed the Council, waving even Zaganos away. As the servants extinguished candles the room fell into darkness.

Despite his orders Zaganos held back. He approached his Sultan carefully. “I admire your courage and your enthusiasm, but I caution you again to be more patient. You are letting your emotions govern you. You cannot afford to show weakness, particularly to Halil.” With that Zaganos bowed and left Mehmet alone.

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