Became The Sultan Of The Ottoman Empire [EN]: Chapter 136

The New Era (4)

The capital was buzzing with excitement at the news of the Mamluk conquest.

The reaction was inevitably different from when the Safavid dynasty, which had only been founded 11 years prior, was destroyed.

Merchants were busy calculating the profits that would arise from seizing Cairo, the hub of Mediterranean trade, and planning their future movements.

Christians looked forward to pilgrimages to Jerusalem, while Muslims anticipated pilgrimages to Mecca.

Of course, a pilgrimage was a distant dream for ordinary subjects, but people were satisfied enough with the increased hope.

Amidst the overall excitement, Fatima calmly opened her arms.

“How are the children doing?”

“They seem to have calmed down a bit, as Valide Hatun [Queen Mother] ordered,” the Kalfa [Head female servant] replied, smoothing her hair with a comb, while other women quickly changed Fatima’s clothes.

The white waves flowing through her splendid blonde hair spoke of age and elegance.

Having been helped into her dress, Fatima stepped lightly.

“Of course, they should be. A gap in the mind always invites mistakes. Even if I can’t help the Padishah [Sovereign/Ruler], I shouldn’t hinder him.”

Fatima, speaking coldly, headed to the largest room that had been prepared with Yusuf’s permission.

As Fatima entered, those inside bowed politely.

“Have you arrived, Valide Hatun?”

“Yes, everyone’s gathered.”

Fatima scanned each of the faces gathered, including Ayşe, who greeted her on behalf of everyone.

Having lost her entire family and being sold as a slave, Fatima, who had only Yusuf as a true family, felt a new emotion at having so many family members.

Her eyes, which had been scanning her grandchildren and Hatuns [Noble woman/Lady], landed on one woman.

“Tazlu, how are you doing?”

“Thanks to your consideration, I am living comfortably.”

As she answered haltingly in Turkish, Fatima wore a satisfied expression.

Almost no one here didn’t know Persian, the language of culture, but Tazlu had to learn Turkish now that she had come to the palace.

“You must take good care of yourself. The Padishah’s child is growing inside you.”

At these words, Tazlu instinctively placed her hand on her stomach.

It was the result of spending the past winter with Yusuf, something she couldn’t have imagined when she was imprisoned by Ismail.

“I will keep that in mind.”

“If you’ve come all the way here with a child, both the child and you will endure well.”

She was a woman who had come all the way from Tabriz to the capital with a pregnant body, despite the dissuasion of those around her, saying that she couldn’t cause trouble like during the Trabzon raid.

She had endured the difficult journey and arrived in good health, so it was no wonder Fatima spoke like this.

‘She doesn’t even know if it’s a son or a daughter, but I can see her being wary.’

Ayşe and Hatice were wearing relaxed smiles, but Nigar’s face, holding the still young Kasim, flickered with anxiety.

Among the four women gathered, she was the one with the weakest support base, so it was understandable, and Fatima, clicking her tongue inwardly, sat in the seat of honor.

“Valide Hatun!”

Fatima lowered her head at the touch of a hand pulling at her skirt, and Hasna, Yusuf’s only daughter, spread her hands with a bright face.

“Hold me!”

Despite Ayşe’s stern shout, Hasna, who had spread her arms, stomped her feet, and Fatima picked up Hasna and sat her on her lap.

It was something she felt every time, but it was truly amazing.

Hasna had a talent for soothing people’s hearts to the point where it felt like the surroundings brightened when she smiled.

“Are you that happy?”

“Yes! I’m so happy to be together!”

“I’m glad you like it. We should gather more often.”

Fatima, who smiled softly, patted Hasna’s head.

She created these periodic meetings after hearing the news that young Yusuf had almost been poisoned.

‘Even if a fight breaks out later, I must prevent them from withering without even blooming.’

It was Fatima’s wish to prevent such things as much as possible until the day she breathed her last, and her intention to promote exchanges through meetings also reflected this desire.

Tickling Hasna’s chubby cheeks, Fatima asked Mehmet, who was staring intently at the paper.

“Mehmet, are you doing well with the homework the Padishah gave you?”

“It’s not easy. I keep talking to Tahir, the Padishah’s favorite artisan, but it seems like it will take more time to realize it.”

“Is there enough possibility?”

“Of course. We have succeeded in making a small amount of iron.”

The principle itself was not difficult.

Basically, it was about changing charcoal into a newly discovered substance called coke [A fuel with few impurities and high carbon content].

However, the work of researching equipment for mass production and confirming the mines in the area Yusuf had mentioned remained.

This required a lot of time because it required multiple trials and errors beyond simply using one’s head.

“The Padishah is a very unique person.”

“What do you mean?”

“Each piece of knowledge he casually throws out is never light.”

The parts about ironmaking, as well as the writing system that made Suleiman rack his brains, were not something that could be achieved in a short period of time.

‘It’s like someone who has been preparing for hundreds of years.’

Yusuf was a person that even Mehmet, who was recognized by everyone as having a brilliant mind, couldn’t even dare to surpass.

“The Padishah has such aspects. But if it benefits the empire, there’s no need to worry, is there?”

“That’s true.”

If an individual, not the Padishah, had this knowledge, it would not have been taken lightly as it is now.

It was such important information that they would have gladly tortured him if necessary.

After talking enough with Mehmet, Fatima turned to the person who was yawning widely.

“Murat.”

“Haa…ah? Yes?! Valide Hatun.”

“Kyaruru, that’s funny! Say it again!”

Hasna stomped her feet and laughed at Murat’s pronunciation with his missing front teeth, and Murat, who was a head taller than Mehmet, scratched his head.

“Valide Hatun?”

Fatima quickly supported Hasna’s back, who seemed like she was about to fall backward because she was so happy.

Fatima, who smiled lightly as if she couldn’t help but look at Hasna, who was laughing ticklishly in her arms without knowing it was dangerous, asked.

“I heard that you are excellent in martial arts. But are you reading books?”

“Ye, I’m reading hard?”

As Murat rolled his eyes, leaving the end as a question, Mehmet slightly lowered the paper he was looking at.

“Murat, even if you don’t study other things, at least build up your military knowledge.”

“Huh?”

At the sudden words, Murat opened his eyes wide, and Mehmet completely put down the paper he was holding.

“The possibility of you going to the battlefield in the future is greater than mine.”

Although he had not yet been appointed as Sanjakbey [District Governor], Mehmet knew where he would be active from the moment he received the letter about ironmaking.

He knew that his job would be to develop the area between the Crimean Khanate and the Cherkess, an area with few decent villages.

Developing that area, where iron ore and coal for making coke were together, meant that any military activity would inevitably focus on defensive roles.

But Murat was different.

“Isn’t the only thing you’re confident in using your strength? If you’re not going to be carrying loads at the port, isn’t the only place you’ll be going to the battlefield?”

“Is that so? But why are you suddenly telling me this?”

Thanks to his parents and Fatima, who provided support, they didn’t hate each other to the point of wanting to kill each other like other Ottoman royals.

But it wasn’t like they were as friendly as other siblings, so this advice was unexpected.

Mehmet, who had started looking at the paper again at Murat’s question, said nonchalantly.

“I already have a lot of work to do, so don’t die and increase my workload. Either way, your father will force you to take on the work even if you don’t like it.”

***

“I wonder when my sons will grow up quickly.”

Yusuf frowned as he looked through the documents.

It was okay that Ilhan, the son of Shemsi, had come to Cairo, but the problem was that a pile of documents had come with him.

Most things were resolved through the Divan [High governmental body] meetings, but important decisions and financial situations had to be checked directly.

‘I could pass all these documents on, but then those who would happily eat away at the country would pop out.’

Honestly, it’s difficult to completely prevent corruption, but there’s a limit to everything.

You have to take action to show that you’re watching them, so they’ll at least be aware, and even that wasn’t easy because the country was so big.

Shemsi, who was looking at the documents related to Cairo next to him, frowned slightly.

“Isn’t it small compared to the work I have to handle?”

“I’m not smart enough to do as someone says.”

“I don’t know who said such nonsense to the brilliant Padishah.”

Shemsi, who had already been hit by those words several times, lied without batting an eye.

Yusuf, who briefly took his eyes off the documents, asked the Yeniçeri Agha [Commander of the Janissaries] who was waiting quietly.

“Is there any unusual movement from Spain in Tarabulus?”

“They seem to be preparing for a possible attack, but there is no special movement.”

North Africa is a mess of Islamic forces supporting pirates and Spanish lands occupied to catch pirates.

The closest city in the territory that was expanded to the west this time was a pirate base city occupied by Spain three years ago, a port city called Tripoli in English.

“If there’s no big movement yet, it’s okay to leave it alone. Either way, the Barbarossa brothers will deal with them.”

The real fame of Barbarossa began with the occupation of Algiers, which was subordinate to Spain.

Kidnapping Michelangelo was a kind of side income, and the real reason he tried to raise them was to check Spain.

Using an outsourcing company like pirates had the great advantage of being less burdensome.

“Are the merchants coming in well?”

“The number of merchants who stopped trading to avoid the war is gradually increasing. More than that, the problem is that the goods coming from the East are not good.”

“There must be someone stirring up trouble without fear.”

Yusuf tapped the desk lightly.

The world will turn its eyes to the sea in the future, and the importance of wood will become a much more important core than it is now.

A shipbuilding book published in the 17th century stated that when building a large ship, the amount of wood needed was 1,800 carts pulled by two horses, which was enough to destroy a forest.

‘In the end, the top priority to get rid of the wood problem to some extent is to connect the canals.’

The main shipyards are currently in the capital and Alexandria near Cairo, which was newly occupied this time, and the main places to buy wood were East Africa and India.

Europe wouldn’t sell important wood to a country like a demon king that might burn them at any time.

Canal construction meant that it took more work than expected.

“…Why are you looking at me like that? Padishah.”

“Because I have very high expectations for you.”

I hope you can open the canal quickly, even by hiring hungry subjects like the New Deal policy, as well as prisoners.

Shemsi raised his eyebrows, realizing the urging contained in the inner meaning.

“Didn’t I say before? Doing things quickly is what Satan does, and Allah is pleased with doing things slowly.”

“Then we can do it so quickly that Satan will be surprised. Then Allah will be very pleased.”

“So Padishah, please look at the documents so quickly that Satan will be surprised.”

Yusuf, clicking his tongue, turned his eyes back to the documents.

If a Westerner had been in this place, he might have been surprised and collapsed.

It was a simple appearance for a sultan who had gained more notoriety than Mehmed II, who had conquered the fall of East Rome and many lands and instilled fear.

How much time had passed? The red sunset began to set beyond the window, and candles made of expensive whale oil were lit.

-Padishah. A messenger has arrived.

“Let him in.”

With Yusuf’s permission, the door opened, and the messenger quickly bowed.

“What’s going on?”

“It is a report that Mecca has been occupied! He said that he would send the son of the Sharif [Custodian of the Holy Sites] who rules Mecca and the keys to the holy sites as a sign of obedience.”

Mecca is a very important city in Islam.

Among the five duties of Muslims, it includes praying five times a day towards Mecca and going on a pilgrimage to Mecca once in a lifetime.

It was such an important city that there was no need to say more, and the face of the reporting messenger was also more excited.

“Yeniçeri Agha.”

“Yes, Padishah.”

“Bring Al-Mutawakkil [The last Caliph of the Abbasid Caliphate].”

“I will carry out the order.”

Al-Mutawakkil was the current Caliph, and as the Yeniçeri Agha left, Shemsi asked.

“Are you finally thinking of formally obtaining the position of Caliph?”

“There’s no harm in having it, is there?”

It’s just one of the many expressions that describe him will be added, but there’s no reason not to receive the position of Caliph, which is like the Pope of the Islamic world.

Yusuf, who casually said something that a devout Muslim would be shocked to hear, beckoned to the messenger.

“If you occupied Mecca, there must be something to bring?”

“Here it is, Padishah.”

Yusuf, who received a pouch made of expensive cloth, smiled satisfactorily as he checked the contents inside.

Shemsi asked, seeing him looking much happier than when he was about to obtain the position of Caliph.

“What is that?”

“This? It’s very good.”

Coffee beans fell from Yusuf’s hand.

The devil’s drink fell into the hands of the most dangerous person.