Became The Sultan Of The Ottoman Empire [EN]: Chapter 15

#15. Sanjakbey Yusuf (1)

Selim was ready to leave, as if he had been waiting for the perfect moment to reveal his true intentions.

Perhaps he had been packing and waiting, bustling around since dawn to finish preparing for his departure that very morning. Over a hundred people were waiting solely for the signal to leave.

“Brother, it’s a shame you’re leaving like this. I wish we had more time to talk.”

“Seeing my brother’s face is enough. Those who depart should do so without regret.”

‘Is that why you acted that way yesterday, knowing you’d be leaving?’

Selim gently patted Yusuf’s shoulder, and Yusuf nodded weakly, betraying his true feelings.

Anyone who didn’t know them would think they were brothers who couldn’t bear to be apart.

‘I’ve certainly done my part to disguise my murderous intent as brotherly affection.’

Yusuf, who skillfully masked his murderous intent towards Selim with brotherly love, turned his head.

“Şehzade [Prince] Süleyman, it was nice meeting you. Stay healthy.”

“Yes, I will.”

Yusuf placed his hand on the young prince’s head to say goodbye and then addressed Selim.

“Brother, let’s be on our way. We have a long journey ahead.”

“Alright, I’ll be going now. May Allah be with you.”

“May Allah be with you.”

Today was the last day the two brothers could meet with smiles, but both bid farewell without any visible regrets.

With Selim leading on horseback, the long procession departed, and Yusuf watched them go, offering a silent farewell in his heart.

‘I’ll let you go peacefully for now, so please go and fight hard, brother.’

There was a specific reason why Selim was assigned to Teke among the many sanjaks [districts governed by a Sanjakbey].

In fact, three years later, another prince, Korkut, would be sent to Teke, which was much farther from the capital than his existing territory of Saruhan.

Later, Korkut demanded his previous position back, but the Sultan refused, leading him to flee to Egypt under the guise of a pilgrimage.

Eventually, he received forgiveness from the Sultan and returned to the Ottoman Empire, but he was effectively too late to participate in the succession war and was killed by Selim after Selim ascended the throne.

‘It shouldn’t be like that this time. The more horses dancing in the succession war, the better chaos for me.’

One might argue that changing the future renders his knowledge useless, but the more he thrived in Trabzon, the more unpredictable the future would become.

If the future is destined to be unpredictable anyway, making it a variable-filled mess was also a viable option.

‘Still, Selim will likely survive until the end.’

He hadn’t met the other brothers, but Selim didn’t strike him as someone who would be easily defeated.

As Yusuf watched the departing procession with such thoughts, a system window popped up in front of him.

[Sanjakbey of Trabzon, Score +15]

“…Is this for real?”

Yusuf roughly wiped his face.

It would be truly concerning if he started thinking, ‘Wow, our system has finally come to its senses and become generous!’

Hadn’t he witnessed it awarding only 1 point for avoiding assassination just yesterday?

The system was practically saying, ‘Wow, your territory is truly hopeless.’

“This place won’t be easy either.”

Yusuf sighed lightly and turned around.

He survived in the viper’s nest that was the capital, so would he really meet his end here?

***

The Trabzon Fortress was of extraordinary scale, befitting its past as a royal palace.

Not only was it significantly larger than the palace he lived in before, but the antique feeling reminiscent of Rome wasn’t unpleasant either.

Although his residence was markedly different from his time in the capital, he had no time to indulge in such observations.

Fatima, Hassan, and Şemsi gathered in his office.

First, Yusuf addressed Fatima.

“Mother, please continue to focus on the free food distribution and donations as planned.”

“Of course, I will ensure that is done.”

Donations were a traditional duty of the Sultan’s consort who accompanied the prince.

It was a means to win the hearts of the people, gauge public sentiment, and provide the consort with a meaningful occupation.

For this purpose, the consort received as much as 50 akçe [Ottoman currency] per day.

“And if possible, please also pay attention to the children’s education.”

“Education?”

He wasn’t contemplating implementing public education at this time, not even as a Sultan.

“Just try teaching them the basics. And let me know if there are any promising children among them.”

Since he lacked the talent identification trait, this troublesome method was his only recourse.

It was groundwork for the distant future rather than the immediate present, and Fatima nodded without any sign of reluctance.

“I won’t be bored then. I’ll go and prepare now.”

“Thank you.”

Her statement about being excluded from future discussions implied that she wouldn’t interfere in the management of the territory, signifying her trust and delegation to Yusuf.

Fatima only smiled softly at his expression of gratitude and left the conference room, and Yusuf turned to Hassan.

“Hassan, did you bring the documents regarding the hass [land or revenue reserved for the Sultan or high officials]?”

“Here it is.”

The documents detailed the number of livestock, the types of crops grown in the orchards, and the extent of the farmland.

All of that was unnecessary; Yusuf only scrutinized the final figure.

The number written was 150,000 akçe.

“Last year’s income was approximately two thousand five hundred ducats. That’s a significant amount.”

Hass can be easily understood as an annual salary.

When you consider it, providing an annual salary requires considerable administrative power.

Money had to be allocated according to position and disbursed to the person in charge. It was essential to prevent issues such as omissions, corruption, and theft during the process.

The simplest solution was to allow them to manage it themselves, similar to a lord granting fiefs to knights.

If the situation was like this in the neighboring areas, why wouldn’t it be here?

‘That’s where the timar [land granted in exchange for military service], zeamet [larger land grant], and hass originate.’

The concept isn’t complex.

If the annual income is less than 20,000 akçe, it’s classified as timar; less than 100,000 is zeamet; and more than 100,000 is designated as hass.

The distinction from the West lies in the state’s ownership of the land; individuals only possess the right to derive income from it.

In particular, hass was land reserved exclusively for very high-ranking officials or royalty.

‘In modern terms, would it be akin to a building owner in Gangnam who can indulge in moderate luxuries?’

If it weren’t for the truly insane fratricide law, he would have been content living like this, but that wasn’t an option.

Yusuf, while examining the documents, inquired of Hassan.

“Did you obtain this from Şehzade Selim’s people?”

“Yes, I did.”

Well, he hadn’t had the time to investigate himself.

He handed the documents to Hassan, who was observing him intently, and said.

“Verify it yourself. Carefully identify any discrepancies. There must be something amiss.”

He placed more trust in his intuition than in the documents before him.

He was certain that his brother wouldn’t have relinquished the land so readily.

‘If he had handed it over so easily, I would have placed the truly magnanimous Selim in a palanquin and sent him directly to the Sultan’s throne.’

That was highly improbable.

As Hassan, having received the order, departed, only Şemsi and Yusuf remained in the spacious conference room.

‘He’s such an unpredictable person.’

Even now, Şemsi’s face remained perfectly expressionless; he was the type of person who wouldn’t even raise an eyebrow if someone danced naked in this room.

His poker face was so remarkable that the emotion-hiding skills he had acquired through observation and imitation played a role even in the sudden confrontation with Selim.

He had only grasped the superficial level, but the original must be extraordinary.

‘If he were merely someone with a blank face, I would have eliminated him due to his unsettling nature, but his abilities are exceptional.’

He worried about the consequences of absorbing him, but he was too valuable to discard.

He was truly a burden.

There was no alternative, and since he hadn’t engaged in any deceitful behavior thus far, he had no choice but to trust and entrust him.

“Pasha [high-ranking title], did you have sufficient conversations with the kadı [judge] and sipahi [cavalrymen] during the banquet?”

The kadı was a judge and administrator who governed the kaza [judicial district], and the sipahi were local standing cavalry.

One was the pillar supporting the territory with words, and the other with force.

“The kadı of Trabzon was a gentle and experienced man. The only drawback is that he seemed to hold firm convictions. The sipahi were deeply saddened by Şehzade Selim’s departure.”

In simple terms, the kadı was an old fogey, and the sipahi were widows who couldn’t forget their departed love.

Just hearing the explanation made him feel suffocated by the two major figures.

“If you were Pasha, how would you have acted?”

“I would have held a banquet or something similar to build rapport.”

It was a textbook move and the least damaging method, but it was a long-term project.

The core figures of the territory were Turks, and Selim had won their favor by favoring them from his initial appointment.

Reversing that in a short period wouldn’t be easy.

‘There’s no way Şemsi doesn’t know that.’

Yusuf intuitively realized that Şemsi was administering a test of sorts.

It was an opportunity to evaluate his skills and governance style, which was only natural.

‘If you’re so eager to see it, I’ll have to show you.’

No matter how exceptional a talent may be, they can’t collaborate effectively if they don’t mesh well.

Yusuf, believing that this matter would serve as a valuable test for both of them, issued instructions.

“We must hold a banquet. We can’t work together without seeing each other’s faces. While the banquet draws attention, Pasha, please gather some data.”

“What are you referring to?”

“Hmm… Let’s start with the sipahi first? The state of their timar and, in the case of older sipahi, who will inherit it.”

At Yusuf’s words, Şemsi raised an eyebrow, displaying a rare expression.

It was that serious.

“If you’re not careful, the backlash will be considerable.”

“I know; it’s natural that it would occur if we interfere with inheritance.”

Inheritance issues are a mess even in modern times, so how much more complicated would they be in this era?

It wasn’t that he was unaware of the concerns, but Yusuf spoke casually.

“But is that a problem? It’s the inherent authority of the Sanjakbey.”

The sipahi, who can be likened to European knights, were allocated timar like knights receiving fiefs, and in return, they were obligated to participate in wars when they arose.

However, as previously mentioned, since they only acquired the right to collect taxes, they couldn’t freely pass it on, and the Ottoman Empire meticulously managed it due to its impact on military strength.

The Sanjakbeys who led the sipahi were primarily responsible for overseeing that process.

“…I understand. I will take charge of the investigation.”

Şemsi, who had turned around as if to observe the ensuing results, paused momentarily and spoke.

“Prince, I hope you don’t forget. Haste is the work of Satan, and Allah is pleased with deliberation.”

After offering the advice, Şemsi departed, and Yusuf leaned back in his chair.

‘The slower, the better.’ Why wouldn’t he be familiar with that common saying?

“I have no choice; I don’t have time for that.”

What if he hadn’t known the future? It would have been frustrating, but he wouldn’t have been anxious.

How long would it take to employ appeasement tactics in the orthodox manner? Three years? Five years?

Rather than passively witnessing the countless events that could unfold during that time and shedding tears of blood, he would rather embrace the risk now.

“There’s no orthodoxy in life anyway.”

There’s only a straight path with a different direction.

Yusuf calmly shook off his fears.