The Wanderer (26 page)

I answered humbly, “Fiddler he may be, yet the whole world is his violin and the nations of the earth are the strings. His proud gaze speaks the prince, whereas your puffy eyes, Master Gritti, tell of one lost to decency through gluttony and drink. While he stands you loll in your chair, nor do you treat me with fitting respect, though as Khaireddin’s representative I consider myself in every way your equal.”
 

Master Gritti, offended, demanded scornfully, “How can you, the slave of a pirate, consider yourself equal to a distinguished Venetian? If you want anything from me you must adopt a humbler tone.”
 

Knowledge of his illegitimate birth gave me courage, for in that respect at least we were equals. And so I replied, “I want anything from
you?
You’re mistaken. You wouldn’t have sent for me in this clandestine fashion unless you hoped to gain something by it. You may represent the most illustrious Republic, but I am the envoy extraordinary of Khaireddin, lord of the sea. Which of us, do you think, takes precedence before the Divan—you, an idolatrous Christian, or I who am of the Faith?”
 

The violinist laid aside his instrument, sat down, and addressed me in faultless Italian, “So you are Michael el-Hakim and this is your brother Antar, the wrestler and gun founder. I’ve heard of you and you do right to defend your master’s honor. But you must not quarrel with this man, who is my personal friend and an excellent musician. Tell me rather why you showed me such marked deference. Did you know who I was? If so, Master Gritti has performed his task imperfectly.”
 

I looked at him in unfeigned admiration, for he was indeed more worthy of it than any man I had seen. And I answered, “I don’t know who you are, but I suspect that the wanderer Mustafa ben-Nakir, whom I met in Algeria, has often spoken of you. If you are that man, then indeed reality surpasses his account as the sun surpasses the moon in splendor, and I can only praise the bright star that brought me to your presence. Praise be to you, most fortunate Ibrahim, pillar of the
 

Ottoman Empire—you on whom the Sultan has bestowed greater power than ever subject held before!”

He inclined his proud head and answered with easy modesty, “I am but my lord’s slave.”

Then his animated mood prevailed again and he went on, “As you may realize, I arranged this meeting so as to gain certain necessary information from you regarding Khaireddin’s intentions. If you’re surprised that the meeting should take place in the foreigners’ quarter and in the house of a Venetian, you must understand that it’s to our advantage to let the illustrious Republic know what may be expected from your master, Venice also is at war with the Emperor. If Khaireddin receives the horsetail switch of a beylerbey he must obey the Sultan only, and cease harrying the vessels of our French and Venetian allies. Do you think he can control his pillaging officers, and one day join the allied fleets of France and Venice in a great naval attack on the Emperor?”

I replied, “Khaireddin is an unusual man, and very shrewd. Since his brother’s death he has encountered difficulties enough to show him that in the long run he can’t hold his kingdom without the Sultan’s powerful support. His ambition is limitless, his officers trust him implicitly, and he calls them his children. The richness of the presents he has now sent best proves his sincerity, and I know he venerates you and the Sultan so highly as to feel like a humble disciple beside you. It would flatter his vanity to receive the horsetail, a kaftan of honor, and a personal letter from the Sultan. And to my mind such a mark of favor would be a modest price to pay for Khaireddin’s mighty fleet and fine seamen.”

Beneath Ibrahim’s dark gaze I felt no wish to resort to fulsome flattery or exaggeration, and believed I could best serve Khaireddin’s cause by giving my honest opinion of him. Yet with my whole heart I longed to win the Grand Vizier’s confidence. So strong was his charm that I desired his favor for its own sake, without thought of the advantages it could bring me. He questioned me very thoroughly, and with practical knowledge, on the subject of Khaireddin’s building works and other activities, until Master Gritti interrupted him, and turning to me asked, “Can this Khaireddin sail oceans as well as seas, to crush the Portuguese spice trade and hinder Spanish traffic with the New World?”

Ibrahim said, “The Sultan of sultans and lord of all peoples is no spice dealer.
In
furthering the interests of the illustrious Republic, Aloisio Gritti, you see no further than your own nose and your immediate advantage. The shortest way to the control of the spice trade is over the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf. When once we have conquered Persia, the Ottoman fleet can sail unmolested to destroy the Portuguese trading posts in India. Nothing can then prevent us from digging a canal between the Mediterranean and the Red Sea, thus rendering pointless the Portuguese discovery of the passage round the southern tip of Africa. But there’s a time for everything, and first the Emperor must be defeated.”
 

Master Gritti, discomfited, was silent. The Grand Vizier turned to me and went on, “No, we’re not spice dealers, and the Sultan has no real enemy but the Emperor, Charles V, for we’re now allied with Venice and the French King, and even to some extent with the Pope. The King of France is once more in difficulties, and to relieve him the Sultan must oppose the Emperor, or at least obtain from him fair terms of peace for France. It will be for Khaireddin to block the Imperial sea power when our army opens its campaign in the spring. If Allah wills we shall defeat Ferdinand, the Emperor’s brother, and take possession of his domains, for so long as the war with France continues Charles can send him no help. It’s true that the Emperor is negotiating secretly with Tahmasp, the Shah of Persia, and sooner or later the Sultan must fight the Emperor on Persian soil as well, at the same time liberating the holy tombs of Islam from the hands of the red-haired Shiites. But the cornerstone of Ottoman policy is neither more nor less than the blocking of Imperial world dominion which, were it to continue, would destroy the freedom of all peoples. Anything therefore which harms the Emperor helps the Sultan, and vice versa. Grasp this and you grasp all.”

Master Gritti, who was evidently bored, emptied another cup of wine and said, “Master Michael Carvajal—you’ll allow me to address you thus, for I happen to know that Master Venier of Venice made out your pass in that name. Well, Master Michael, the Ottoman emblem is the bald-necked vulture that appeared to Osman in a dream. Clearly, in order to survey wider expanses than come within the range of ordinary mortals, the vulture must mount high in the heavens. I, poor earthbound man, am more interested in the spice trade and the best way to protect Venetian merchant shipping against the pirates of Islam. For these are matter-of-fact, everyday problems, and their solution will bring many benefits. Our violinist should content himself with capturing Vienna and bestowing the crown of Hungary on my friend Zapolya, who has humbly sought the aid of the High Porte. For he is the lawfully elected king of the downtrodden Hungarian people, whose arrogant lords have accepted King Ferdinand as their ruler. By law, only a native of Hungary may wear the sacred crown of St. Stephen, yet the Viennese King’s German men-at-arms are still roistering in Buda. The forces of the Crescent ought to have freed Hungary from the German yoke as long ago as last summer.”

The Grand Vizier only smiled and drew a few pleasing notes from his violin.

“Last summer Allah sent heavy rains and floods in our path,” he said, “but next summer Vienna shall be captured and the faithful Zapolya shall receive his well-earned reward. For as you may know, the Sultan has sworn by the Prophet and by his sword to be Zapolya’s true friend and shield him from all his enemies.”

Aloisio Gritti made a wry face and said, “And King Zapolya swore, too, through his ambassador. He swore by the living God and Jesus our Saviour, who is God also, that he would ever remain a friend to the friends of Sultan Suleiman and an enemy to his enemies. But while you were playing your fiddle the greedy landowners and the Germans oppressed the people and left them destitute.”

“Allah’s will be done,” returned the Grand Vizier. To me he said, “You may apply with full confidence to Master Gritti for any information regarding the Christian states. Through him we learn not only the secrets of the illustrious Republic, but also news from King Zapolya of matters great and small in Germany and the Viennese court.”

His face darkened, and springing up he cried, “Crowns and coronations are but a mirage to delude the foolish. Not the crown but the sword confers sovereignty. Lands trodden by the Sultan’s chargers are forever united with his realms. Therefore I, too, burn with impatience to open the greatest campaign in the history of the Ottoman Empire. If afterward Zapolya reigns as king of Hungary, it will be by the Sultan’s favor, to ensure free passage through his domains at all times.”

Although I well understood that these preparations for a campaign which indirectly threatened the whole of Christendom greatly exceeded in importance the affairs I had on hand, yet I strove like Master Gritti to keep my feet firmly on the ground; I asked what reception was to be given to Khaireddin’s envoy. The Grand Vizier replied, “The Sultan still regards Khaireddin as a common pirate who, with his brother, betrayed the trust placed in him by the Sultan’s father, Selim. Khaireddin also has the second and third viziers against him, and I advise you to provide handsome presents for these men. But foremost among his opponents are the Sultan’s sea pashas who fear and envy him. He has a trustworthy supporter in the Chief Pilot, the learned navigator Piri-reis. Piri-reis has drawn a chart by whose help anyone may sail the Mediterranean with safety; when you meet him, praise this work. Since a few copies of it fell into the hands of Christians it has ceased to be a secret. Piri-reis is an elderly man who lives among papers and feels no resentment for Khaireddin. The only gifts that please him are Christian charts which he likes to compare with his own. Tomorrow I intend to take up the question of Khaireddin with the Divan; I shall mention the magnificent gifts he has sent, and stress his firm intention of turning Algiers into an impregnable naval base. If Allah wills it, the Sultan himself shall receive the deputation in person, and the other viziers must accept the position with what grace they may.”

After giving me further instructions and addressing a kind word or two to Andy, he dismissed us. Master Gritti escorted us past the Negro guards to a side door, and before we left him he said, “If you’re indeed a man of education, Master Michael, and find time hanging heavily on your hands, come and visit me without fear of intruding; I enjoy listening to Seraglio gossip. The Seraglio is if possible a worse hotbed of gossip and intrigue than even the Vatican or the Emperor’s Court. I can offer you some unusual enjoyments, too, and acquaint you with vices with which because of your youth you’re perhaps still unfamiliar. I regret that this evening I was unable to offer you some young slave girl, for I have a number of these in my service, of different races and color and all expert in the erotic arts of their own countries. Indeed, I believe you’ll be astonished.”

I thanked him politely for his great kindness and promised to call upon him as soon as I had news from the West, when we could exchange useful information. But in my heart I resolved to keep as far as possible from this false man whose masterly intrigues made him dangerous company for me, while for Giulia’s sake I dared not even consider his hospitable offers. The silent clerk escorted us back to the shore, spoke to the guards and led us onto the quay where our boatman was dozing, half-naked though the autumn night was chilly.

The crescent moon shone like a drawn scimitar above the great dome of the mosque as we glided over the Golden Horn to our ship. We were unmolested, though a couple of janissaries on the shore stared at us as we climbed aboard.

Next morning I told Torgut-reis and the eunuch all that had happened and urged them to await the summons to the Seraglio in all confidence, since by diplomacy I had succeeded in winning over the Grand Vizier to Khaireddin’s cause. At first the eunuch would not believe that I had met the Grand Vizier in person, but while we were yet talking a horseman arrived to bid us make ready to appear before the Sultan. Soon afterward cooks and scullions arrived in great numbers, bearing with them in Chinese bowls an abundant meal from the Divan kitchen. After the noon prayer a hundred mounted spahis clad in purple suddenly appeared. Their jeweled weapons flashed in the sun, and their saddle cloths were adorned with heavy turquoises. Their Aga presented Torgut with a gift from the Sultan—a magnificent horse whose bridle and saddle were ornamented with silver, pearls, and precious stones.

Overjoyed at this splendid present, Torgut-reis gave me thirty ducats and the eunuch added a somewhat smaller sum. We then set forth in ceremonial procession to the Seraglio. Huge crowds hailed us as we passed, and called down blessings upon our heads. Slaves, black and white, carried Khaireddin’s presents, of which the most gorgeous had been uncovered for all the people to behold. Ten beautiful girls and boys carried coins and gold dust in baskets of plaited palm leaves, so that we felt deeply thankful for the protection of our mounted escort. In my arms I held a white-cheeked monkey that had grown so much attached to me on the voyage that it allowed no one else to carry it. It put its arms about my neck, chattering and grimacing at the bystanders until I had a flock of laughing, shouting children at my heels.

We were led past the great mosque and through the Gate of Happiness to the forecourt of the Seraglio, which was surrounded by the barracks of the janissaries, the Sultan’s stables, the library, and the soldiers’ bathhouse. In the forked branches of ancient plane trees hung numberless iron cooking pots, and on the lawns groups of janissaries were taking their ease. The Aga of our escort handed us over to the guards at the Gateway of Peace, and here the merchandise, slaves, and seamen were left while Torgut-reis, the eunuch, and myself were shown into a waiting room within the archway. We sat down on hard and dirty cushions, whence we could see into another room on the opposite side of the arch. Broad-bladed headsman’s axes hung there on iron hooks fixed to the wall, and on the floor was a pyramid of some thirty human heads. The stench was unbearable, for many of the heads were no longer quite fresh, having been brought from different parts of the Ottoman Empire for the viziers to see, as conclusive proof that sentence had been carried out.