Became The Sultan Of The Ottoman Empire [EN]: Chapter 133

Became the Sultan of Osman – Episode 133

New Era (1)

Tabriz was a city that Selim was satisfied with looting after his victory in the war. When Ismail gathered his troops again to attack, his military advisors opposed him, fearing a siege.

The head of the person who seemed to be in charge of the city’s defense was hung on the gate, barely maintaining its shape. The collapsed walls seemed to herald the end of the old era of walled cities.

The Ottoman army, with Ismail’s head displayed at the front, entered with a cheerful marching song, and the people trembled with fear.

The rags rolling on the dirt floor and the bloodstains on the houses showed the harsh days of the recent past.

“Still, it’s intact enough, Grand Vizier.”

“As you ordered, looting was minimized.”

“Were there any complaints?”

“There were few who dared to disobey the Padishah’s [Ottoman Sultan’s title] orders, and we punished them accordingly.”

“Good job.”

The situation was completely different from when Selim conquered this place in the original history.

Selim, who had to abandon this place quickly, looted harshly, taking everything, including goods and people. But with Ismail dead, there was no immediate enemy to contest control of the city.

‘Of course, that will change soon.’

Although the Safavids were destroyed, the remaining land would not remain vacant forever.

In the Ottoman situation, they did not have the capacity to extend far onto the Iranian plateau. It was a land that was just right to overextend their supply lines if they were greedy.

Although the resources of Iranian land are quite abundant, with the opening of new sea routes and the West spreading to the world, it was not a land with great returns on investment at the moment.

While grasping the situation of the city with his eyes and talking with the Grand Vizier, they arrived at their destination.

“We greet the Padishah!”

The door of the place that the White Sheep Dynasty [Aq Qoyunlu, a Turkoman tribal confederation] and the Safavids used as a palace was wide open, and those who were heavily guarding it showed their respects.

This place was not much different from other places in Tabriz.

One side of the palace was collapsed, whether it was hit by a stray cannonball, and a lot of things were piled up on one side.

“What is that?”

“It’s the Padishah’s share. In addition to valuables, large items are being sorted outside.”

Since the Sultan could not loot directly without compromising his dignity, some of the looted items were offered as tribute.

There was no reason to refuse, as there would be many places to spend money in the future.

Yusuf, who entered the courtyard, pointed to one side with his hand.

“Are those Ismail’s harem members?”

“Yes, they are.”

The number of women included in the harem seemed to be not much less than his own harem.

Unlike himself, who inherited a harem that had been managed for a long time, Ismail had directly collected these women for 11 years since he founded the country, so the number felt quite large.

Yusuf, who approached the women who were showing their respects in neat clothes, raised his chin.

“Most of them are Armenians.”

“Th, that’s right. Padishah.”

Yusuf let go of the woman’s chin, who was answering shyly.

Suppressing fear and acting as she had learned seemed quite strong, but that was it.

His harem also had many women like that.

Even if they were of the same ethnicity, it was difficult to specify their appearance as one, but Armenians were usually classified as Caucasians, but their features were somewhat similar to Indians.

It was quite a unique appearance, and just as the Ottoman dynasty preferred blonde European women, Persia traditionally preferred Armenians.

Yusuf thought that Ismail’s harem was also influenced by that preference, and a woman caught Yusuf’s eye as he moved his steps.

“Tazlu.”

“…Yes, Padishah.”

Has it been about 5 years since they met as kidnapper and victim?

Quite a lot of time had passed, but there was no major external change except that her body was thinner.

“You survived.”

“Sha [referring to Shah Ismail] treated the woman who grabbed the hand of someone she shouldn’t have grabbed with greed mercifully. She was just locked in a room.”

“You were more merciful than I thought.”

It was a great mercy that he imprisoned her but did not kill her in anger or throw her to the prisoners.

He wouldn’t have let someone who committed a crime that could shake the country like that if it were him.

Tazlu watched with her black eyes as the flagpole that announced Sha’s death came down, touring the entire city.

It was a pathetic ending for a man who seemed to have the world at his feet.

“Tazlu, do you resent me? Am I the one who took away your future?”

“Hasn’t Padishah always given me choices? How can I resent you when I am the one who chose?”

It’s an easy thing to say rationally, but it’s a very difficult thing to say emotionally.

However, resentment was not felt as a characteristic of Tazlu.

Of course, she might be able to hide her emotions skillfully like Shemsi, but that in itself is an interesting thing.

Yusuf, who raised her chin with his finger, made eye contact.

“Tazlu, I’ll give you a choice. It will be the last choice I give you.”

“Padishah’s choices always come with sweet temptations and poison. Give it to me.”

“Either be sent as a gift to my men like the women here, or become mine. Choose one.”

In terms of status, it would be better to become a concubine, but considering the brutal harem life, it might be better to choose the former.

Tazlu gently placed her hand on Yusuf’s shoulder and clenched her fist.

The guards were angry at Tazlu, who dared to grab the Padishah’s clothes, but she didn’t flinch even at the terrible murderous intent directed at her.

“Won’t you regret it? I will mobilize everything I have to put my son in the Padishah’s seat.”

“It’s funny to say this with a son who doesn’t even exist yet, but try it if you can.”

Even if Tazlu’s family is a family that has a great influence on the Safavid land that he has occupied this time, it will not be easy.

Because the competitors are formidable.

Yusuf said with a smile on his lips.

“And no matter how great an emperor is, he can’t control his children’s affairs.”

“It’s the story of a son who doesn’t even exist yet.”

Tazlu, who countered Yusuf’s words, hugged him and let out a breathless breath.

Winter was beginning to come to Tabriz.

***

Babur, who had left Kabul with his troops, arrived in Isfahan and heard shocking news.

“The Sha [Shah, Persian king], are you saying the Sha is dead?!”

“That’s right!”

It was unexpected news.

Not only Ismail of Safavid died, but the Sultan of the Mamluks and his forces were annihilated, so it was like listening to a story from another world.

Even if he was defeated, it would have been okay if at least Ismail was alive, but the country of Safavid, which was maintained by personal charisma, lost its center and was collapsing.

A subordinate said to Babur, who was not invited into the castle and remained outside, with a mournful face.

“It’s going to be difficult. We might end up spending the winter outside.”

The weather is not important.

Since he had to spend the winter anyway, he had prepared warm clothes, but more than that, it was a big deal that he might return to Kabul empty-handed.

It could be a fatal situation for Babur, whose support base was not strong.

While Babur was thinking about something while listening to his subordinate’s words, cavalrymen appeared, raising dust.

Judging from the ragged clothes and the many people who appeared to be wounded soldiers, they seemed to be defeated soldiers, and Babur faced them.

“Who are you!”

“I am Zahir al-Din Muhammad Babur of Kabul. I came to help your war, but…”

The man who led the way said with a dark face to Babur, who couldn’t bring himself to say that they had been defeated before he could help.

“I am Muhammad Khan Ustajlu. I’m sorry for making you waste your time coming a long way. It’s not a situation to receive guests right now, so please go back.”

It was a polite but cold statement.

Having to repair the Safavid dynasty due to Ismail’s death became another mission given to him.

‘Sha, I will definitely take revenge.’

With this one will alone, he gathered all the Qizilbash [Turkoman followers of the Safavid order] who had been left behind and created a force of 2,000 soldiers.

In a situation where there were many wounded soldiers, Babur’s forces were too threatening, and Babur withdrew his forces in response to Ustajlu’s wary reaction.

“I’m sorry for blocking the road. Let us pass.”

“Thank you. I will remember your heart that came to help.”

Babur, who was watching the scene of Ustajlu slowly heading to Isfahan with his troops, said to his subordinate.

“Allah is helping me.”

“Padishah?”

“Secretly tell the soldiers: the moment the gates are opened to welcome them, we will occupy that city.”

The place in front of him was a city that his ancestor Timur [also known as Tamerlane, a Turco-Mongol conqueror] had conquered, and a strong desire flowed from Babur’s eyes.

“Starting with that city, I will recreate Timur’s glory.”

When the gates of Isfahan opened, a greedy conqueror revealed his ambition.

***

Unlike the dry summer, cool rain fell in Kostantiniye [Constantinople, modern Istanbul], where it rained more as the weather got colder.

The boy who opened the door and entered the room shook off the raindrops.

“People have too many unnecessary stereotypes.”

In response to the boy, Mehmet’s words, Suleiman, who was scribbling on paper, answered respectfully.

“What is it this time?”

“If you carry an umbrella, it’s not manly, so you deliberately get rained on. Isn’t that inefficient?”

The perception that avoiding rain was not manly had been widespread since ancient times, so umbrellas were often seen as the exclusive property of women.

It was an incomprehensible act for Mehmet, who valued reason over emotion.

Suleiman handed him something to wipe his body with and smiled softly.

“Isn’t there a need to show off masculinity to the women in the city? That’s how they show their masculinity.”

“Hmm, that’s an interesting thought. Can it be seen as an act for reproduction?”

It was not something a 9-year-old could say, so Suleiman asked with an awkward smile.

“By the way, what brings you here on a rainy day like this?”

“I heard that a letter sent by your father has arrived for you.”

Mehmet made a sullen expression with his slightly chubby face.

Yusuf was one of only two people in the world who could draw out various expressions from Mehmet, whose facial expressions did not change much.

Suleiman smiled bitterly at Mehmet, who was showing rare expressions as it was related to Yusuf.

“I sent a letter of greetings after hearing the news of the war victory, and the answer came back.”

“Yes, I sent one too, but it only came to you.”

Suleiman’s face, who received jealous eyes, was not happy at all.

“Would you like to see the letter I received?”

“Is that okay?”

“Of course. If you see it, you will know why he sent a reply.”

Because it was a letter containing the Padishah’s autograph, it was carefully kept, and the beginning of the letter was a light greeting.

Such greetings were very short, and the long words that followed made even Mehmet’s eyes shake.

-Currently, our empire’s language uses a mixture of Persian and Arabic elements, so even those who speak our language have difficulty learning the letters.

Ottoman Turkish was more of a written language influenced by Persian and Arabic than a purely spoken language.

Although Turkish was used as the court language, it was written in a modified Persian script based on Arabic characters.

It was bound to be difficult.

-Also, as the empire grows in the future, it is certain that various languages will be mixed and create a chaotic situation, so the empire needs a new, standardized language.

Underneath it was written a proposal for a new alphabet based on Latin characters.

It was surprisingly precise as it was adapted to fit the Turkish phonology of Latin letters.

The problem is that creating letters and grammar is only the beginning of the work.

-Therefore, not only existing words must be matched to these letters, but also expressions that do not exist in Turkish must be created with new letters. I entrust that task to you. Tell the Grand Vizier to provide support.

As a smart Mehmet, he roughly grasped how much time and effort this task would consume.

It was definitely necessary, but if he was told to do it himself, he would take a step back.

Only then did Mehmet realize that what Suleiman was scribbling on his desk was the new alphabet written here.

“Sehzade [Prince] Mehmet.”

“…Why are you calling me?”

“Would you like to do this with me? I will tell the Grand Vizier. If you do this together, you will have many opportunities to communicate with the Padishah.”

Mehmet, who faced Suleiman’s hopeful eyes, took a step back.

It would take at least 5 years even with scholars, and he had no intention of falling into this swamp.

“Sorry for coming to visit when you’re busy. Work hard.”

Soon after Mehmet ran away, Yusuf’s letter of greetings arrived.

As if to let him know why it was later than Suleiman’s, the thick letter was full of content about iron smelting and coal.

At the end of all this content was a word that was usually difficult to hear.

-I love you, Mehmet.

“…Father.”

Mehmet was not happy at all even with these words that tickled his heart.

Yusuf’s love to make his son an iron king was too heavy.